It’s Sunday, the day of rest and sleeping and brunch. What am I doing? Working. Granted, I get to stay in my pajamas and drink coffee while doing it, but still. I don’t think we’ve really grown up until we realize the extent of what it means to give things up for our futures (i.e., 15-credit-hour semesters, adequate weekend social lives). But it’s okay. I love what I’m working so hard to get to. Dietetics and me are good to go.
Chemistry and I are fighting, and my lit paper is far from perfect. But so is everyone (and everything) else.
I don’t get another “free” weekend like this until the semester ends, so I’m going to enjoy the rest of this one. It’s going to end on a great note, for the most part. As long as I figure out which classes I’m for sure taking this summer, I have no doubts about that. (And at this point, that’s up to the registrar, not me.)
It’s a good thing I like writing, because I have a ton of that to do today. Like, a ton. I would show you my planner, but it might be too much for you to handle. Take a deep breath. You’re only too busy when you don’t have time to write a blog post about it.