Spring break is over. My first class of the week is tonight's math class. I have a test tomorrow that I have to study for. I've read and taken notes on my psychology chapter.
Spring break was nice. I had been so busy, with school, with work, with wedding things, with trying to get everything ready for company. It just seemed like forever since I had a chance to sit down and read something for pleasure. I did, too. I read 'The Solace of Open Spaces' and 'The Nazi Officer's Wife'. I began reading 'The Vicar of Wakefield', and I got to the same place I got to the last time before setting it down and never getting around to picking it up again. It's not riveting reading, but it is pleasant. So I've enjoyed reading and it was relaxing to have time to focus on the house and on Tim.
It's probably a good thing that I leapt into this school thing without too much forethought. If I'd have given myself time to think about it, I would have talked myself right out of it. (Low self esteem sucks.) Last night, laying in bed, thinking about school, I started to get scared again. I began to worry that I couldn't do it. That test on Tuesday...good grief. I wasn't even sure that I remembered the topics. I fretted over my last essay. The teacher commented that it was 'dark'. (It was. My life is not all sweetness and light.) And then I began to dread psychology class. The teacher had written my name upon the board, along with maybe a half dozen others. She said that she wished to speak to us after class, and said that it was her customary talk with the students, the one that she does for every class, with every student. Since I'd already attended that little meeting, I saw no need to meet with her again. I really don't have anything to say to her. She is erratic and an ineffective teacher, close minded, surprisingly unaware. I think that I should avoid putting myself in any situation where I am alone with her, opening myself up to claims of 'she said....' In any case, I lay in bed and that niggling fear began to creep in, that certainty that I am not going to be able to juggle this. I took a deep breath, and pointed out to myself, yet again, that I already was. And then I rolled over and went back to sleep. Today, I studied, and I took notes. Today there is no doubt in my mind that I can do it. Why is it, do you think, that we are far more uncertain in the dark?