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Boom! Kapow! BangBangBang! BOOM!

[insert the sound of my head exploding.]

[while you're at it, why don't you make that a double head-explosion.]

I have entered a new kind of life, the kind where my head explodes at least once per day.  My head has been packed full of all sorts of drivel lately it’s like a ticking-time-bomb, waiting for disaster. 

This summer semester I went back to school—nothing fancy, I’m still working on a bachelor’s degree.  That being said, I haven’t taken a full-load of classes for five years.  I could sleep until ten every day, go to class, go to work and stay up until 3 am every day without feeling any adverse affects.  Um, apparently I’m old now because that sounds like hell.  Except for the sleeping until 10 am every day, that part I could do.  I have class four nights a week, that means Monday-Thursday evenings until I am cooped up in a classroom for 3 hour blocks trying to digest a barrage of information about the financial markets, the banking system, the federal reserve and the job market.  I’m an economics major and while that may sound really horrible I actually don’t mind it.  It’s interesting, relevant, and I only have 6 more classes to take before I’m done—which prevents me from jumping into another, more glamorous major.  Six classes!  That’s it!  I should be graduating in May 2011.  (Can I please get a collective “Woot Woot!” from the blogosphere?  Thank you.)

A few weeks ago I started a new job, a really great job.  I have no real complaints except that it takes up approximately 9.5 hours of my day when you factor in lunch breaks and commute time.  This would not be a problem under normal circumstances, but with my evenings full of school and my days full of work I have approximately 4 hours of free time per day.  I have been on a bit of a health-kick lately, cutting out sugar and soda, reducing carbs, and going running 5-6 times per week.  Stop.  Hold on.  Five or Six Times A Week?!  Yep, that’s right.  I have a schedule.  Every morning at 6 am I meet Andrea at the high school track and we run.  Or, she runs and I huff and puff and heave and wheeze and pretend that I can run.  I’m getting better—but it’s been tougher than I thought (again, I’m getting old.) 

The fitness regimen has helped keep my stress level manageable, but it also leaves me with only 3 hours of free time per day, an hour of which is generally spent doing things like showering and getting dress and curling my eyelashes.  Things like laundry and dishes and scrubbing the bathrooms are left undone for days (or weeks!) at a time. 

If you are doing the math in your head, all of the above leave me with little time to do anything but stare at the wall, stuffing chocoalte-covered potato chips celery sticks into my mouth like a drone.  Sigh—only another month until the end of the semester and a much needed break.

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