Pesky Kids

It's the day before school starts, and I am already exhausted. My brain is slowing down with the stress of trying to think of all the things I have in store for me, all the things I haven't organized yet, and all the things I need to do before tomorrow. It's like trying to wade through sludge.

I'm still trying to get through my classes, and I feel like a spoiled brat who didn't get the corvette for her sweet sixteen. In all my years of college (and there have been many), I have never gotten into a situation where I couldn't get the classes that I want. But now, here it is, for me to enjoy. Perhaps tomorrow I'll turn into one of those crying students who breaks down when the professor says "no" and has some awful sob story that makes you want to stick your head in the oven just listening to it. Either the class is full, or it conflict with another class by ten minutes or less, is at a completely ridiculous time, has ridiculous prerequisites like Enlish as a Second Language 101, or someone else has edged me out. I try not to worry, but seeing as how I've never been in this position before, I don't know what to expect. So I end up shaking my fist and muttering obscenities like a nabbed criminal on Scooby Doo.

Pesky Kids.