I don't think this is what I signed up for.

I just want you to know that if/when I have a nervous breakdown it was indeed all my fault.

I have spent my beautiful, sunny, mild weekend reading. I don't mean curled up with a good book sipping tea reading ( I adore that), no I mean heavy text book, mundane reading. As a college student, this is not a new phenomenon, but the duration of this studiousness has gotten ridiculous. No one should spend their entire weekend swimming in the dark waters of academia.

I did pick my classes with little regard for my own sanity, so I suppose it's not my place to complain. I still want to though.

It doesn't help that my body is, now after twenty-ish years for the first time, getting the proper number of calories (instead of excessively more). I'm hungry, tired, and overworked. Bring on Xmas, so I can finish this farce of a semester.

It seems I only blog when I want to bitch about school.

Rightfully so, I suppose.

My classes start Tuesday, and my plate is overflowingly full. Just looking over two of the sylabi for my classes gave me a headache. It also gave me the impression that my education professor is a hippie. I mean the real deal type of hippie. She is concerned about the environment and gives off the "lets hold hands and sing" vibe.

I kind of want it to still be summer:

 

Lack of sleep coupled with a longer than usual car journey has exhausted me. I feel as if I'm going to nod off any minute and I still have to unpack all my crap. I definantly have some procrastination issues. Blogging instead of cleaning.

Roomie is also hosting a soiree here this evening, so sleeping will probably not happen anytime soon.