stereotypical single woman

It’s going to be a very stressful and hectic week here in my little corner of the world. So that means lots of random pictures of the cats this week (see example above), followed by a rambling, drink-fueled celebratory post on Saturday night. Stay tuned, you won’t want to miss it.

What makes it so stressful? Well, I have two projects, an exam, and a paper due by next Saturday. And, as mentioned before, I am one of those people that sweats the small stuff. I will have myself so worked up and convinced that I’m a big fat failure that by Wednesday that I’ll have a little breakdown, cry for a few minutes, and then realize I’m acting like a first-class idiot, get my shit together, cram till the final minute, and then go in to class and do well. It’s not the most efficient way of studying, but it’s my comfy little routine.

I’m especially worried about the Thursday exam I have, worth 1/3 of my final grade, on access points in cataloging. To be perfectly honest with you, I just don’t understand it. I really try to. I do my reading and class exercises, but I’ll be sitting there in class, ready to take notes, but the the minute the professor opens his mouth all I hear is “Wah, wah, wah, wah….wah” just like on the Peanuts cartoons. The thing is, even though he’s a little dry, he knows his stuff. But I have the hardest time following him, so the problem in this equation must be me. And to make matters worse there’s a group of obnoxious just-out-of-undergrad girls in the back of the room that annoy the shit out of me. Honestly, I forget how old I am until I get put in with a group of 22yr old grad school neophytes, and then I just want to turn around and say something like “Back in my day students knew enough to stop whining and shut the fuck up when they walked into a classroom and saw other people studying.” (okay, so back in my day we didn’t, but still, I’d really like to say it) They are always asking the most inane questions right when I think I’ve gotten a grasp on the concept and completely throw my train of thinking off. It makes me want to bring ear plugs to class (or even better - a roll of duct tape.) And their pre-class chatter is enough to drive me up a wall. I now make sure I don’t show up more than five minutes early for that particular class, otherwise I would be very tempted to smack them. And I really don’t want to have to explain assault and battery charges to potential employers when I’m job hunting next year.

Okay, gotta go back to my school work. The faster I study, the sooner I feel like a big fat failure, the sooner I cry, the sooner I get my shit together and get some real work done.