Hell week redux

What is it about school that every week has the opportunity to become hell week? Okay, this one I'm just coming out of...this one was no surprise. 4 exams, a major paper, a meeting for my contract work and oral surgery, all within the space of 7 days. No, this one I had warning about...and sure enough it came through. The exam I wrote this morning should have been okay. I go to class. I understand what's said, I write my notes. I study, I study again. But it was like my brain was simply full. No more room at the inn it said to me...which is what some of my answers reflected oh so sadly. Way too much white space, way too little substance. C'est lavie. Good thing I'm already accepted at library school - all 4 of the schools I applied to even...nice to have the choice. And nice to have chosen the one that I did. I keep hearing good things about the program and the university and conflicted things about the city. That's okay...program's most important, city least important. Meanwhile in this city, 4 more weeks of classes which is a relief...until that is, I realize just how much I have left to accomplish in that teeny bit of time. So onwards and upwards. Just remember if it's not hell, it can't be a week....as they say.

My kingdom for a kleenex

It's flu season. I know this not because I myself have succumbed but because every class this past week has had me sitting in front of, or beside, someone sniffing to save their lives. For over an hour, I am subjected to people sneezing and coughing and like the chinese water torture, sniffing at regular intervals. Meanwhile I hunch over my desk facing away from them, obstensibly to better write down my notes, while almost losing the battle to shout out at them, "for god's sake use a kleenex - contrary to what your professors have been telling you, wiping your nose is not a bourgeois act. You are not delaying the revolution one second by refusing to exercise proper nasal hygeiene". But alas, all that happens is I get a sore neck from my contorted note-taking and repressed prissiness, and worse, I feel a sore throat coming on. I think I'd better go lie down.

Bubbles "with a hanky stuffed in every possible pocket" Mandalay