God, I hate school. I mean, I love learning, and sometimes I even love what I’m studying, but as an institution, it sucks fucking horseshit. I honestly feel like I’m drowning, and I have no idea how to fix this bloody disaster, because it feels like I’m in an impossible situation.
I mean, on the one hand, I really should just . . . buckle down and apply myself. But, on the other, I can only do that so long before I’m completely fried because I’ve pushed myself really hard and developed tunnel vision instead of working for balance.
And, as much as I want to tuck my head down and just bull my way through all this, I know that I can’t. I know this, because I am an enlightened individual who is well-aware of her own faults, and I know from past experience that way madness lies. And a whole slew of health-crashing bad habits. Bad habits that I cannot afford, when I’ve been working for nearly a year to stabilize the health situation.
But it’s hard to know what to do when I’m buried under a crush of assigned readings, and looking down the pants-shitting barrel of impending deadlines. Deadlines that are evil and fanged and rushing up to beat me with pointy sticks. It’s a situation that causes anxiety to open up shop and start production in my gut.
As if that weren’t enough, I’ve also got Professor W making my life 20x harder than it needs to be, because he can’t stick to the syllabus, and nor can he give us adequate notice of what we need to have read for class. Because, dude — emailing your students at 9pm on Sunday and telling them to have 4 pieces of Victorian poetry read for Tuesday afternoon is not acceptable. It’s not even 48 hours’ notice, for fuck’s sake.
And, because it is not my life unless the universe is taking a heaping shit on me, everything else seems to have gone to pot, too. Will and I are pretty much constantly at each other’s throats, Fatherbot and I seem to be existing on parallel planes, and I’m worried about Milady. Oh, yeah, and I’ve been sick on and off for the last week.
My ability to concentrate has been blown all to hell, and it would be really fuckin’ shiny if the world would just stop fucking turning for a few gorram hours (or days) so I can find a way to collect and calm my shit.
But, because this is my life, the Ministry of Magic has destroyed all the Time-Turners, and — instead of only having to deal with the run-of-the mill bullshit — I have to find some way to do all this while dealing with the next chapter in the epic saga of The Tattling Specialists.
I’m so completely warped out of sorts that I haven’t even been able to write. I can’t focus on the books I want to read. (Yeah — that summer reading challenge? I didn’t get very far with it, and I’m so disappointed, you have no idea.) I haven’t had the time or inclination for a lot of my hobbies lately, because all the joy in the universe has been nommed by that spastic monkeyfuck called university.
So, once again: this institution blows donkey dick. And I am done with the rampant asshattery and dogfuckery that is the circus act of obtaining my degree.
I think this goes without saying, but as we live in a world of rampant asshattery, please allow me to state for the record: this is my intellectual property. As such, please do not copy, circulate, edit, alter, take credit for, or otherwise appropriate this material without my express permission. Thank you.