tales from the crypt

I can't even begin to describe how exhausted I am. Seriously, I'm like one of the walking dead. Why? Because Pathophysiology class is eating me alive. Patho class is so challenging, and I feel so totally stupid in there ... all I want is to answer one little question correctly so I can get a pen. Dr. G gives a pen to whoever answers questions in class. The girl on the front row? Man! she has racked up a mountain of pens. I, however, have no pens. And every time that girl on the front row just casually and coolly lets the correct answer roll off her tongue before I've even had a chance to figure out what the question was? I want to smack her in the head with my 20 lb. Patho book and then ask her to explain THAT physiological response to the class. We have the first exam next week, and the amount of stress I'm feeling is unlike anything I've ever known. Ironically, the stess response will be covered on this exam.
My favorite thing about Patho class is that Dr. G ends practically every sentence with "... and then you die." This totally cracks me up. Tuesday, when I was already sleep-deprived and feeling punchy, it was all I could do to hold it together every time he said it. And now I have a compulsion to end every sentence I utter with " ... and then you die."

The other class is online. It's just weird and time-consuming. At least Patho is interesting and USEFUL. The online class is typical of the bullshit classes that are created to justify life in academia. It's exactly the kind of class that made me never ever want to get a Ph.D.

Oh, and since things are not stressful enough, and I have so much free time on my hands ... Health Assessment class starts a week from Monday. It's almost as though the powers that be are all like, "Okay, you seem to be surviving and haven't yet had a complete nervous breakdown, so we're going to turn up the heat a bit." ... and then you die.