Well, gentle readers, the following is an admission never once before truthfully uttered by the good Dr. Science: I have simply reached the limit of how much stuff I can do at once. That's it. No more. You want proof? I got proof.
First, despite my dentist's repeated warnings to this effect, I have, in those few hours of sleep I get a night, been grinding my teeth so hard that I broke off the corner of one of my fillings. And over the next few nights, I ground down the jagged edge to a smooth one.
Second, with my unceasing "i can do anything all the time and don't need to eat well or sleep well or focus on a few things" behavior, I could not stay on top of all I had going on. Between new experiments at work causing me to spend weekends in the lab to classes 5 to 7 days a week to trying to have some sort of social life and not be lonely and deal with the fact that I am in the most active and strange city in the world, I flat out missed one of my weekend classes. Yep, just missed it outright. I thought it was next week. It wasn't.
Thankfully, my advisor, the teacher, and I were able to work something out (their exact words were, "hey, stuff happens."). I realized my horrific screw-up at eight in the morning on Monday, while I was preparing the last bits of data for a presentation i had to give to the head of my dept. that day.
Threre's good news and bad, therefore. The bad news is that I can't do this anymore, this whole school and work and living in a new place thing. I just can't do it anymore. My emotions and nerves are a wreck, and the littlest thing can ruin my day now. My health is in the toilet (which phrase is extra-funny for some of you who know me). I just can't do this. The good news? I don't have to. As of today I have two more 1-weekend classes, and I'm done. No more weekday classes screwing with my job. I have (most of) my nights and weekends back, I will have FAR less stress, and I'll be able to stop digesting my own body in lieu of eating food. Soon I'll even be able to have fun without feeling horribly guilty afterwards!
It was my own pride that did me in, honestly. I took on too much. I'm not looking for absolution; I just wanted to write this down and post it publicly in the hopes that I'll actually believe it and remember it for the future.
Well, if you'll excuse me, I have to go prepare the apt. for the arrival of Jaina, our new roomate, with whom I have arranged to have a slumber party to make smores, talk about boys, and paint nails. You know better than to think I'm kidding.
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