Longest day in the history of ever

Ever have one of those days?  You know the ones: those days.  One of those days can mean any number of things.  The other week I had one of those days where everything goes wrong from start to finish: being pelted by gravel on the interstate, stepping in dog poo, accidentally plucking half your eyebrow off.  Basically, a day where Murphy and his stupid little law lurk behind you and laugh mockingly as the day progressively gets worse.  

Today I had nothing particularly bad happen.  But, still, it has been one of those days.  The day that seems never ending.  Where you stare at the clock and swear the second hand is taking hours to tick on by.  I started at 7:30 and just got home from my Monday night class at 9:30.  A long day, indeed, though there is nothing unusual in that.  What is unusual -- wait, scratch that, what is completely and totally frustrating and maddening -- is that this day seemed to last a week. 

The space-time continuum was working just fine as I was rushing around like a mad woman to get ready so I wouldn't be late for class.  But then time seemed to freeze.  A 50 minute class felt like a semester's worth of discussion on lyric poets (ok, now that is a nightmare, shudder).  My sandwich at lunch, though eaten at a normal pace, seemed to last only between 12:30 and 12:31.  A mere 6 hours of work felt like a full 40 hour week.  And that only takes me to 6pm.  I won't even get started on my night class and how a 1RM arm and leg press seemed to span the length of an entire work out.

So, after making it through this eternal day on 5 hours of sleep, I come home to realize I still have a decent chunk of homework to complete before I can fall into bed.  Well, hell - finally!  Finally a positive to this horrible day:  I can do my work and still be in bed by midnight.


But, alas, the clocks have started operating at full function once again.  Such is life.

In the name of full disclosure

After a particularly humorous and revealing conversation with a friend earlier this week, I realized no one is immune to embarrassment.  We all have those stories or facts that are only funny after the blush has worn off.  Many of mine are related to my ridiculous clumsiness or ignorance.  So, in the name of full disclosure, a list.  Something lighthearted as I determinedly ignore my homework.

1.  Up until about a year and a half ago, I was going around pronouncing Goethe in a blatantly non-Germanic way:  Go-eh-thee.   And yes, I realized my error in class.  After saying it aloud in the middle of what I thought was a particularly intelligent response.  I was wrong.

2.  I thought peanuts grew on trees for a large chunk of my life.  Ok, so, it was up until last year.  Leave me alone.

3.  My first class on the first day of school during my first year at UNCA, I got up from my desk and was met with a large ripping noise.  I looked down and realized my dress had gotten caught on the desk and was split right up the front, exposing quite a bit of thigh and a decent sized patch of bright-ass-green underwear.  It was a spectacular first impression.

4. I blew up my bathroom in the 11th grade.  The rest of that story shall remain a secret.

5.  I have beaned myself in the head with the Wiimote more times than I can count. 

6.  Walking barefoot on flat ground with no spare cloth near my feet, I trip an average of at least 10 times per day.  Usually in public.  Usually with a face-to-the-ground-ass-in-the-air finish. 

7. While snorkeling with my parents in Puerto Rico and encountering a crap ton of jellyfish, I acted the same way any sane adult would do:  I alternated between climbing on my father's back and floating in the fetal position with my eyes closed.  I may or may not have peed on myself in some misinformed desire to keep them away.

8.  One of said jellyfish was a plastic bag.  There is video proof.

9.  I got bit by a Golden Retriever.  Yes, America's favorite family pet ripped half my arm open.  This is something that would only happen to me.

10.  I got sent home early from pre-school for singing everyone's favorite Rocky Horror Picture Show number:  "Touch-a touch-a touch me..."


Tag, you're it!

Refund dilemma solved...

>.<

Refund check dilemma

It's that time again.  The other day I went to pick up my refund check from school - the money left over (from loans, grants, etc.) after tuition and other sundries have been taken care of.  This year, I got a pretty decent chunk o' change:  $2200.  Now it's time for me to do some math, which is frightening since this book nerd abhors numbers.

A portion of that refund goes toward reimbursing myself for the books and supplies I had to purchase for the semester.  Let's say around $300.  The rest is kind of hanging there with a giant question mark.  The logical, responsible part of my brain is saying "Psst, Jessica.  Be a good girl and put that money back toward your loan."  Not a bad idea, considering school put me around $25k in debt. 

On the other hand, in the long run, the $1900 or so won't make the hugest dent in the debt.  BUT, in the here and now, could seriously give me a boost.  I could use the majority to pay down some credit cards, hold some back to keep me afloat while my work hours are down, etc.  The rest could be used to contribute to my stash for a new laptop.  Sorta-kinda-ok-maybe-not a school related expense.  My faithful lappie is on it's last legs.  Wouldn't want it to crash out while I'm writing my thesis, right? 

So, refund check, meet moral conundrum.  I can proceed, with permission from parental units - who are paying my college loans - with the second plan and alleviate some of the financial stress I have during the school year.  But that creates the feeling that I'm somehow being tested.  And if I make the wrong choice, I will incur the Disappointed Parent face.

But, oh, how shiny and pretty that new laptop would be....

Brain implosion - back in 5 minutes!

After noticing the trend of people's eyes glazing over after a particularly long rant of mine, I decided I should act like the rest of the world and move my rambling to a blog. That's the sane thing to do, yeah? A positive - if not necessarily productive - emotional release of sorts. It's my space, so I can say whatever the hell I want and loved ones can tune in and out at random. Win-win, right?

I'm (hopefully) in the process of finishing my very LAST semester of college. 3 months and I will officially (again, hopefully) be a degree-carrying productive member of society. Or that's the theory. Those three months are looming ahead with the promise of many research papers, a ridiculous amount of reading, a thesis, and the big bad Literature Comprehensive Exam. Dun, dun, dun!

Said exam - the exam that determines whether I graduate or stay stuck in pre-grad limbo until I pass it - is taking place this coming Saturday. Supposedly, I'm expected to exhibit a comprehension in my major of choice, proving that I have not been doodling/sleeping/etc. for the past however many years. Sounds ok in theory. I'm a good student, I pay attention, I feel as though I have a general grasp of my studies. In practice, however, I am a huge ball of pulsing stress, anxiety, and fear. To prepare for this monster of an exam (hello! 9 AM - 5 PM!), I'm supposed to know literary history, a ridiculous amount of vocab, how to scan a poem technically, how to scan a poem for content, and be very familiar with enough "major works" that I can pull them out of my derriere and write an essay on the spot, following some unknown prompt. Bah.

My flashcards are numerous enough to keep me suffering from paper cuts for years and very suddenly, all the reading I've been doing the past two years has flown right out of my head. So, put simply, I'm feeling stressed and whiny. Saturday is approaching and I feel like a bumbling idiot.

However, I've decided that whatever happens, happens. Pseudo-philosophical, lame personal mantra of the day. If I fail the test, it will suck, oh yes. But the Chair of the Lit. department isn't going to hunt me down and beat me with a hardcover copy of War and Peace. The Dean of UNCA isn't going to put a bloody horse head in my bed in the middle of the night. Basically, I'll get over it. It's not the end of the world. If at first you don't succeed....you know the rest. Things happen in life that we have no control over. All you can do is keep going and hope that you'll be able to make yourself proud.