I'm sick. I'm sick of running around like a chicken with my head cut off. I'm sick of buying textbooks I will never read, but cannot return, because I'm switching boring, early morning classes for other later, more interesting ones. Yes, I'm fickle and neurotic but you knew this, so don't pretend like I'm not that girl who has been bitching and complaining the whole way through this law school thing.
I've also been sick, which is no big surprise. Law school makes me sick. The stress caused by the commencement of law school, the girl's school, Bubba's high-pitched screams at my retreating figure during preschool drop-off, my inability to be as good a mom/wife/employee as I would like to be, and my uber-critical mom coalesce into a perfect ball of shit that lands right smack atop me every August.
Today I had class at 4:10pm. I had to bend time in order to make it to my class. Soccer dad, who is not even related to us, left work early to pick up Olie, my child, from school and take her to soccer practice so that I could hustle my ass to the city in time for my class. I had five minutes to spare. I am finally home and completely wiped out. I need to pack lunches, lay out clothes, order food, read for school, set up play dates, administer and ingest cold medicine all while fighting sleep and the lure of the internet.
Honestly, I'm no good at this. I can do one thing very, very well but when I try to do several things well, I tend to fail miserably or - usually - I sink into a quagmire of guilt and I do something drastic. I am at this moment stuck in that quagmire and taking stock.