Warning: breakdown chronicles ahead.

I have cried more times in the past four days than I have in the last two months combined (and that's saying something, because I've cried a LOT in the past two months). The stress of starting school never really got to me before, but for some reason, this semester is really frustrating me. Perhaps its because I'm feeling the pressure of graduating and making sure everything works the way it's supposed to so that I can get my degree and be done.

Today I walked into an english professor's office (who also happens to be my advisor, though he never remembers me). I asked him to please sign my drop/add card because I was registered for a class he was to teach, but I needed to drop it because I was enrolled for too many credits. He then proceeded to grill me on why I was dropping his class and why I was registered for his class last semester and did the same thing. I left the exchange frustrated and in tears. Why do I need to explain to him why I'm dropping a class? It's obvious - I can't take the class - so please, sir, can you just sign the drop/add card so I can be on my way? Thanks.

This little encounter was prefaced by an unbelievably lovely (note, lots of sarcasm) class with the dear (sarcasm again) Professor Shaeffer. This woman is stuck in the dark ages, I am convinced. She showed the class photos of London's architecture using an old school slide projector - you know, the hand cranked ones that make a loud, obnoxious buzz that sits in the base of your ear and feels like its rattling your brain to the core? Yes, that one. Lovely. All through the class I tried to find something to like about her, but I just couldn't. From her awful blue eye shadow to the fake bake tanning spray she uses on her already leathery skin (she's well into her 60s), nothing about Professor Shaeffer is attractive. Oh dear.

I'm not really complaining, though it sounds like I am. Rather, I'm just amazed at how different one semester is to the next, and what a different perspective I have on this year. I just want to be done. I want to work hard, get good grades and get the heck outta Millersville!

On a happy note, I sat in the car and split a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with Connor today. Something about it made me ridiculously happy. It was simple and calm. We didn't talk much, we just sat there and ate, made comments, and enjoyed one another's presence. It was nice.

More to come later... :)