I was semi conscious last night (while "visions of research methods danced in their heads") lying in bed, listening to the forest outside. I literally live in the forest. I lived in the forest last year too, but this year my room faces a completely different "forest" (no lie, like a Bambiesque forest). Let me interject for a moment and say we were playing lacrosse one day last spring, and it was the end of practice and we were getting the goals and stuff and a dear, a bigass dear, wandered out onto the field and started grazing, like it was no big thing. We thought it was really cool, in any event.
So I was listening to the sounds of the night and staring at the ceiling for hours because I had about sixteen diet cokes a few hours previous and I had the jitters from all that caffeine. As I was laying there I had a flashback to spring semester of last year, in the wee hours of the morning, when most college students are in bed or on their way there.
I recalled something that happened around the same hour last year, across campus in my old building. So there I was, 4 in the morning, typing away at a Russian paper (full of Tolstoy of Dostoevsky and Chekov and all those guys) that had been assigned on the first day of class at the beginning of the semester, and it was now the last day of class, and I still had 10 pages to write. Lesson learned. Anyhow my friend was upstairs working on the same exact paper, diligently on his computer.
My roommate was sawing ZzZs in her bed behind me while I was furiously bullshitting left and right.
All of a sudden I heard the most horrifying sound I have ever heard in my life. Imagine, if you will, hearing a baby being mauled by any ferocious animal you can imagine. That was the noise I heard. Maybe not even A baby. More like an army of babies. And there I was, in my room, while the army of babies was outside in the forest right outside my window (on the first floor) being slaughtered. I quickly got a hold of my friend on the aim and asked him if he heard that noise, and went over the shake my roommate and see if she heard it too. My roommate was sound asleep and heard nothing, but my friend upstairs said he heard it, and he never wanted to talk about it again. And we don't talk about it because it was so awful. I assume it was raccoons, but I'm ruther glad it wasn't just my imagination on overdrive. It was THE worst sound ever.
I can't motivate myself to do any homework right now. I very literally feel like all I ever do is go to class, come back here, do homework, squeeze some sleep in, wake up, go to class, repeat repeat repeat.
And I start my new job as a writing tutor tomorrow afternoon. And half an hour after I'm done with that, I get to go watch the niece and nephew for a few hours. I don't know how I'm going to manage to do homework for Thursday, but honestly I don't care.
I miss freshmen year when I was just an English major, and I could sit on the windowsill and play my mandolin and drink orange soda all day and no one would care or tell me to do any work. Now I'm so bogged down up to my eyeballs I don't know what I'm going to do. And I'm not even in over my head yet, I'm keeping up with everything but there is just so much. I need like 18 arms and 50 bagillion brains! I feel so stupid for getting myself into this mess. I love psychology, and I want very badly to get a degree in psychology and be on my way to grad school, but English is my passion. I really love literary criticism (cause I'm lame like that) and creative writing. But being an honors student, and a musician and playing lacrosse and being in 80 thousand clubs and STARTING a club from scratch all by myself and being an aunt and a sister and a daughter and a friend and a college student. There is no time left for me to just be Rachel. I think that's why I love blogging so much and I find it's very therapeutic. I'm just Rachel here.
If you'll excuse me, I have to read about prenatal development now *gag*.
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