End of Semester Madness

So its 2 weeks and down to the wire. Ya know those last few pushes during birthing scenes on TV where the women are like "I can't push anymore!!!" Totally there in my head. Granted I'm definitely not comparing finals with giving birth, but if you've ever depended on the last couple grades in order to pass a class, you can see a similarity.
  
   Not exactly a "zen" moment for any woman...
   
   ...but then THEY had 9 months to prepare for it.

I don't mind doing schoolwork. Its the combination of panic/paranoia that follows me wherever I go that I hate. I go to take a nap in the afternoon, wake up at sunset with a start because I think I missed my work shift (6am - 9am). Peeling downstairs through the kitchen, only to find my mother making dinner...

And the classes with alot of complicated assignments and due dates that you forget about from time to time...  Those are my FAVORITE!

                                              
 (To the point where your semester long project no longer makes any coherent sense and the mere sight of your computer prompts the same physiological reaction as one would have to the smell of hot garbage)

Two days ago, I spent my time between classes avoiding my project like the plague. So I cleaned until there was nothing left to clean. Justifying every moment in denial as "being productive". All I know is that if I have to extend my academic sentence by having to repeat any more classes, I cannot be responsible for the beast that will be unleashed upon the city.


On a brighter note, there are 2 weeks left in the semester which means I'm making preparations to visit my husband. Which typically means sanity is not far behind. He's my proverbial "island in the sun" and is attempting to relocate back to my side of the country, but for karma's ears, lets just assume it'll never happen, because when karma hears you planning your happiness, she will thwart it EVERY TIME.

 Oh, it happens...

So I make it a point to never emotionally invest in plans that seem too good to be true (because they typically are) until he's actually moved. This way, when the military decides to throw a proverbial wrench in our plans, my disappointment will be minimal. Yet another coping mechanism I've picked up in my lovely stint as a Sweetheart.

Hopefully the semester will end on the highest note (grades) possible


...yeah.