...Until this semester.
I don't think I have ever been this overloaded. Sure, I've cried. I've panicked. I've invested in every color post-it note known to mankind in my not-so-distant college days. I thought I was busy; I wondered how in the world I was going to get everything done. But I didn't really know anything, I'm coming to find out. Cause busy has just reared it's ugly, hairy head at me.
I was like a kid in a pool freaking out over a soggy leaf floating next to me [thanks Doug Serven]. That was amateur stuff. And now, my friends, I'm hitting the big time. By "big" time, I mean "book" time, or "staring-at-my-computer-trying-to-write-an-amazing-novel" time.
And it's just not all that fun.
My blogging life has suffered tremendously. Are you sad? Because I sure am.
It's a real pain, this school thing. I love school, but I also kind of hate it.
I used to think that I would really enjoy college when I was doing what I wanted to do.
I'm doing nothing BUT reading and writing [lots and lots and lots and lots of writing]
this semester and all instead of making my days that much more wonderful,
it kinda makes me want to curl up in a ball and die.
My classes aren't necessarily hard [except the one major exception of novel class],
they're just time consuming. And that's the worst.
It's my senior year, and there is just a whole lot I would rather be
doing than yet another reading assignment.
I guess, I shouldn't complain.
I could be picking the plaque off of someone's unbrushed teeth
like my roommate. Or I could be working on a dead body, fiddling with
the innards and memorizing all the little, gruesome details.
Or I could be doing math, any and ALL kinds of math.
Still, I wish I had more time for things that are actually fun.