Maxed

[icarus]

Oh god, I'm so maxed out I can't believe it. Test the second week of class. Two assignments due yesterday (oh, I was skimming that material). I have a make-up test this am. I've an appointment with my counselor I forgot about yesterday (shit), and I still haven't even started my work study job. I hope I haven't lost it because I'm a day late in returning all the paperwork.

WG is complaining about what a mess the house is, but I don't have time to clean. When I did a little picking up this morning, I found most of the mess was his.

I've taken a leave of absence from interimminister, and, yes, abandoning a plot midstream.

My last job... I was supposed to come in last Friday, but last week I did the equivalent of 25 credit hours and I had to go to the social security office to get a bloody social security card because unlike every job for the last 15 years, they didn't want to accept my birth certificate and driver's license as proof -- ah, hell. The birth certificate was falling apart anyway. But I was there the busiest day of the month and it killed an entire afternoon. I haven't finished my law homework yet, and I've got to be at work all afternoon. Shit. I meant to do the law stuff last night, but I fell asleep.

Ack.

And story ideas won't leave me alone.

*whacks down plot bunnies* *whack, whack*

Comments

[adred.livejournal.com]

*empathy*
However, my creative juices dry up totally when I'm stressed. I lose interest in writing, food, sleep, sex, yet I often find myself with an overwhelming desire to clean the loo and mop the kitchen floor.
*passes Icarus camomile tea*