Dreamy

The other morning I woke up from a very weird dream. In the dream one of my high school English teachers and my English professor from last semester were friends. (Ironically my 9th grade teacher is some sort of secondary ed. professor at York College, but I'd wager they've never ever crossed paths.)

The sort of Karma-ish aspect is that after noticing that it was weird to notice Mrs. H and Dr. M sitting at the same table at Borders, when they noticed (and somehow remembered) me, they started a conversation about me. 
"How did she do in your class?" 
"Well, not that great.  Fantastically well read, not really good at turning in assignments.  That was high school, though, how is she in Lit in College?"

They both sort of had a look of mutual understanding, then turned back to look at me. I'd heard the whole thing, and I could feel my face turn that tone of magenta that always takes over in real-life when I'm highly uncomfortable for whatever reason.

Well, when I woke up (in a cold sweat), I decided that though my semester so far has been pretty stellar, old habits die hard.  I have been pretty slacker-ly in my Neuro class. I'm passing, but I really don't care that much.  This sort of worries me. I was looking at the "suggested flow of classes" sheet specifically for Neuro majors, and my entire academic career has already been planned out. There is little space for doing "the college experience."  No "Underwater Basket-weaving 101" for me, and adding the Women's studies/LGBT studies double minors actually added an entire year to my life.  Mostly, because I have the inability to say no.  I shouldn't do the minors, but I ENJOY the classes. I do not enjoy neuroscience, but I think it's going to be more beneficial in the long-run.

So at any rate, here I am typing this nonsense blog instead of reviewing my Neuro notes, or revising my WS essay (again).

(sigh)

Have a fantastic rest of the week!
Shayna