Fuck Mondays. Seriously.
The wallet is still missing, the dog has had to wear a cast for the last five days, and I overslept by TWO HOURS this morning. That's my number one enormous signal that I am way too stressed out. Consciousness is always the first thing to go.
We did have a spectacularly successful Thanksgiving dinner, however. If I do say so myself, and I obviously do. And I got a (basically non-paying) gig writing some articles for our new free weekly newspaper. I'm cautiously excited.
And, just to keep things interesting, my mom suggested that I move back home and finish my degree next year instead of staying here and getting another job. My first reaction was to recoil and begin hyperventilating (because the awful essence of it is that I'd be living in a bedroom in my mother's house, asking her for gas money, when I turn 30 in April. And things at home are Not Good, to put it mildly.) But then, who else is going to offer to lend me the money for school and let me live with them rent-free while I attend? And how much worse would it be to be temping and failing to make ends meet when I turn 30 in April?
(Truly, and this will be a theme that becomes more pronounced in the coming months, I most definitely do not want to turn fucking 30 in April no matter what I'm doing. I realize that in stressing out over this I am falling victim to societal pressure about how aging is bad, when Oprah assures me it's actually good, but I don't care. My eggs are old. I'm single. I don't have my undergraduate degree. I suck.)
But anyway, Ohio...I'm just in a tailspin over this. I have to figure out if I really want to do it, and then figure out how to get it done in an incredibly short time frame. And I must keep looking for a job in case it doesn't pan out. Also, I have to do an audit before I leave this job, which is normally more than enough stress for my fragile little psyche. I loathe the audit. And you know how the sun never shines any more outside of working hours? That really, really bums me out.
Decisions, decisions. I think I'll avoid them all and write a blog entry! (And think how much blog fodder I'd have if I did move home.)
Anybody have strings they could pull at OSU? Or need to rent a room for a year or so?