Alright. It's done. I'm home*, I'm doing laundry, I ate a hearty breakfast. The only thing non-pajama-wearing on today's agenda: Powell's. I will leave there many dollars poorer and one well-stocked reading list richer. Then, I'll return to the Casa de Czuba and work. I will work on my job, I will work on my homework, and I will work on packing (my life is one suitcase after another).
The last ten days were so absolutely, incredibly odd. For every evening spent socializing and stepping out of my comfort zone, there was an hour of sleep and relaxation lost; for every motivating craft talk and amazing reading, there was a quiet, growing panic working its way into the back of my mind; for every minute of blissful removal from real life, there was (rather, is) the consequence of returning to real life after totally ignoring it for ten long days. Basically, for every positive, there was a negative.** But I learned much, I ate relatively well, and I slept little. (Somehow, that seems like an apt prediction of what the next two years of my life will look like.)
Today will be a good day, I think. Maybe? I've got a killer hangover*** and no idea where/how to get started on all the things I have to do, but that's hardly going to stop me. You know, as long as I can get my crap together and stop with my forgetful abandoning of tasks (witness: the half-emptied dishwasher, still open, sad and alone, which I forgot I was working on until this minute).
Also, I'm pretty sure that if I let myself stop for a minute, I will pass out for at least18 hours. And--let's be real--I don't have time for sleep.
*sort of. I mean, I'm back at my parents' house. I don't get to go HOME home until tomorrow night.
**just like a good scene. haha
***let me tell you: the residency will give you a hangover regardless of alcohol intake. I haven't had alcohol for days, yet I feel like I've just come off of the all-night bender of a lifetime.