Exhausted

5 Feb

Just a few more weeks of this, guys. March 10th. March 10th and I can breathe again. March 10th and I will a glorious spend a week and a half with my sister and my parents, and then I will be available again.

I will be able to do things I enjoy. Finish my scrapbook, perhaps?  Clean my desk?  Go for a run?  Cook for Jonathan for a change?

March 10th and I hope that I will be able to rid myself of the guilt. No matter what I am doing, I feel guilty. If I work out, I feel guilty that I should be studying. If I am studying, I think, I am getting so fat I need to work out. If I spend time with friends, I feel sick because I should be studying. If I don’t spend time with friends, I feel lonely or like I am neglecting my friends and my spouse.

I hate this guilt. Everytime I talk on the phone with my family, that lingering nag of the work that is not getting done is always there. And I love talking on the phone with my family, and lately, I can’t enjoy it. I can’t enjoy anything. The work is always there. I am always behind. I am always tired.

I dream at night of missed assignments. I dream I am taking a test and I don’t know any answers. I dream that I am doing homework and then I wake up more exhausted than I started.

When I signed up for this, I thought I could do it. I didn’t realize that the business courses would have so much group work. So much written homework due each week. It’s too much.

And I am tired of not being able to enjoy a single minute in a day without the guilt. All the time. All the time the things I need to get accomplished. All the time the things that are being neglected. All the time the heavy press of knowing that here I am, at a top rated school, and here I am, barely getting through. All the time.

Even right now.

Even at night.

Even in class sometimes. When the lecture is boring. Or slow. Or pointless. I think, I should be getting something done. I should not be here. Time is ticking. Time is ticking. Time is ticking.

 

Someone asked me how old I was the other day. I said 23. I am 26. The time has gone by really, really fast, these last three years. I have gotten older and fatter and my hair is grayer and my face is tireder and i need more and more make up to pretend that I am not just a corpse moving through the motions everyday. Thank goodness for Lancome. The only foundation I have ever found that vaguely matches my sallow orangey skin.

 

Sorry for the angst fest. that is really how I feel.

But on March 10th, I know, I just KNOW I will feel like Dorothy when she got to Oz. And the entire world will be colorful and birds will sing and maybe, just maybe, I’ll even get some ruby red stilettos.

🙂

(March 10th, spring break starts,  and officially 4 of my 9 classes will end. 1 of my nine classes ends this Wednesday, so I will be down to 8 classes as of then! So after March 10, my work load will be decreased in half. In case you were wondering. And one of those four remaining might or might not continue, so I may even be down the 3 classes. And it will feel magnificent! until bar review starts… but I refuse to even THINK of that!)

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