Can I?

Is it a bad thing that you take your entire shower with your eyes closed because it just feels better to keep them that way because it seems that they miss being closed?

Is it wrong that you haven't actually slept in the same bed as your husband in a week because either you are in the office (which is a subdivision of our bedroom) typing like a madwoman until 2am and he can't stand the pecking sound or you have camped out on the couch so you can type like a madwoman while watching Jay Leno because you've lost touch with the outside world and who is that young whippersnapper who plays Meg Ryan's son in that new movie and my gosh, son, why don't you shave every now and then, razors are pretty cheap and I think I'm officially old because I'm very sad that Meg Ryan is playing a mom in a movie with the aforementioned shaggy-chinned boy and she's not even the love-interest heroine. Wait, didn't that sentence start out as a question?

I figured up my History grade last night and right now I have a 91% in the class. If I don't do this last document assignment it'll only drop me down to a B. I seriously considered just not doing it last night. Seriously. But then I was overcome with this insane sense of guilt for even thinking about not doing it. Then I remembered how tired I am. Then I thought, my instructor has no heartfelt personal desire to see me succeed (at least I don't think he does) and it's not like I'm a History major and while I really wanted this semester to end with all A's, at this point in my exhausted life, I'd be okay with a B. But instead my husband went to bed without me (again) and I eventually turned off the TV because frankly Conan makes me throw up a little in my mouth and then woke up at 2am with my fingers on the keyboard and my chin laying uncomfortably on my chest.

And what did I do yesterday, but enroll for another semester. Next fall you'll get to read whining about Computer Concepts, General Physical Science, Intermediate Algebra and Macroeconomics. Aren't you just lucky? No wait! Please don't run screaming from my blog! Really, I'll stop whining! Just come back! Who am I kidding - I'm still going to whine. I just hope you like me enough to endure it and someday when I'm a famous writer/journalist you'll be able to say you saw me through the bad times. Okay? Just keep thinkin' about tomorrow. It clears away the cobwebs and the sorrows. At least that's what I hear.

Seriously, did you read that schedule of mine for next semester? It's a very numbers-intensive-thinking-the-way-my-brain-doesn't-naturally-think load. I am insane. After sleeping on it (briefly) and hearing from my little sister that the guy who teaches that science class is crazy hard, I may wait and take it later. I'm not sure I can handle both it and Algebra in the same semester. My advisor is checking on an American Lit class to see if it will count as a Humanities credit and if it does, I may swap it for Science. It's with the same instructor that I took Comp II from this semester and she really likes to make you write, but hello, that's kind of what I want to do with my life so I'd better get used to it. We'll see what happens.

I did, however, walk out of my advisor's office yesterday floating about four inches off the ground. She's told me several times throughout the semester, but reiterated it again yesterday - I have a talent for writing. Now, you might think that I should probably kind of know this, but I really am a humble kind of person. And my self-esteem is about a quart low half the time. While I love to write and it makes me insanely happy to do it, I didn't realize until just in the last year or so that I really might be kind of good at it. I mean, I like what I write, but I am never sure that other people think it's as good as I do. Ya know? My dad told me last night that he's been trying to tell me that I'm talented for years, but that I just haven't listened. According to Freud all I want to do is....oh wait, we are SO not going there. I have really got to stop Freuding everyone. Especially myself.

Anyway, she complimented my writing and suggested that I get my name out to the local papers and make myself available for freelance jobs, editorials, etc. Oh wow, but does that make me step right outside of my comfy little world of safety and non-rejection. The prospect is utterly exciting and makes me giddy at the thought, but in the same breath it scares the pea-wadding right outta me (anyone who knows what pea-wadding is WITHOUT GOGGLING gets 10 extra credit points and my eternal admiration). And while I'm scared of putting myself out there and never being offered any work, I think I'm going to do it. Why? Hmh. Maybe I'm a masochist. Maybe I'm delirious from lack of sleep. Maybe I want to prove to my husband that writing isn't silly and that "pecking around on that keyboard" might actually pay a bill or two one of these days. But mainly, I want to be able to prove to myself that I can. Plus, it'll allow my dad to once again say, "Told you so."