Monday, September 16, 2013

College Student Gone Crazy.

There comes a point during the school semester where I go crazy.  Last year, I went crazy during finals which is perfectly acceptable and understandable.  Massive tests are approaching, English professors form a cult and decide to assign papers...all at the same time, and the last days of the semester seem to drag on for eternity.  Well... I think I'm in trouble.  I'm starting to experience the crazy symptoms now, and it is only the fourth week of the semester.  What's my excuse for going crazy? Heck... I haven't the slightest clue. I'm ahead of the game in school, I'm doing well in my classes, and I'm achieving somewhat of a balance in my undergraduate career.  But no... the signs are apparent. Craziness manifests itself in three ways...

1 -- I put items in the wrong places.  Last semester, I put my textbooks in the fridge.  I didn't think anything of it until I opened the fridge to get some water, and I saw the chilled books.  A couple days ago, I made some grilled cheese. (Okay, I've been eating grilled cheese for every meal), but anyway, I had to put the butter and the spatula away.  An hour later, I noticed this....  Heaven forbid... what if I put milk in the pantry?
Behold.
2 -- I have ridiculously unusual dreams.  Usually, I have no recollection of my dreams, but such was not the case a few nights ago. I dreamed that I was pregnant, as in 6-months-pregnant, something's-in-my-body, my-mom-is-freaking, pregnant.  I was just curious, and I looked up some dream interpretations.  Apparently, "pregnant dreams" reflect a desire to wield power and authority.  Huh - that's funny.

3 -- I think obsessively about puppies.  Last semester, when I was super stressed, I looked at puppy pictures, I watched puppy videos, and I looked at donation centers for puppies.  Now, I want a puppy so flipping badly.  I went to the grocery story, and a woman was selling a Rottweiler puppy for $300.  I wanted that thing... I thought, "I can buy him. I can take care of him. He can eat the bugs in my house. He can attack the creepers in my neighborhood.  He will be a good dog.  He will come to school with me.  He will be my dog.  I'll name him Henry."

That's how I know I am going crazy, and the semester has yet to truly kick in.  So... if in a month or two, you see me in the middle of a street in the fetal position with a paper bag over my head accompanied by a dog named Henry, you know that my descent into madness has reached its pinnacle.  Brace yourself, world.

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