E-mail sent to Dr. M detailing my decision(s) and thoughts on research. We’ll see in the morning if I’ve shot myself in the foot. Update: Big sigh o’ relief and chewed on nubs left alone.

So last night I went to a country music concert. Um, yeah. Just thought I’d get that out there to scare away the weak of heart, since that’s not really the beginning of the story. So I went clothing shopping yesterday. I need a suit, now that my weight is stabilizing. I also need business casual clothing. Shopping was… interesting. It was as difficult as usual to find clothing that fit well (“Big legs and no ass?! What kind of a freak are you?”), but I managed, I think. I don’t like the suit jacket I got, I don’t think, but it should be workable. I may also take it…

(Hopefully, after this, I’ll feel able to shut my cake hole (and still my fingers) on the subject of school.) Crunch time is upon me for deciding if I want a Chemistry minor. How can I talk about getting minors in different areas when I’m not doing well in my own? I don’t know, but I’m talking about it anyway. See above about crunch time. Dr. M is afraid that if she doesn’t get me into a Chemistry class next term that I won’t take any more chemistry classes. She wants me to take Descriptive Inorganic Chemistry next term. It’s a two credit hour self-paced lab, basically, and would count…

Routine bitching, I know. DISCO test == bombed. One twenty point question as good as blank, last half-ish of a 16-point problem blank. It was just like Comp Arch in that the test wasn’t that hard or complicated; it was just me.

Today’s, ah, highlight: I went in to take a Comp Arch exam at 19:00, stomach clenched, knowledge fleeing. The C-Biscuits gathered for a moment of prof bashing and painfully scared laughter before the exam commenced. My nervousness escalated to full-blown anxiety about two minutes before the start of the exam. We’re talking racing heart, nausea, panting (?!?), tears, shaking, the works. My prof asked, just before distributing the exam, if we had any questions or concerns. I had meant to chuckle a little, but I actually sobbed. How embarrassing. My little anxiety attack cost me 35 minutes of my two-hour exam. Thirty-five minutes I tried the four problems’ beginnings, hoping…