I'm More Tightly Wound Than I Realized

I spent most of my first day in seminary running around as if my head had been cut off.  I arrived on campus twenty-five minutes before my first class began, because I was ridiculously nervous about being late.  I had texted a girl I met at orientation, and we were going to try to meet up and go to our shared class together.  Ten minutes before class began, she appeared, claimed to be desperately hungry, and asked if I wanted to go to McDonald's with her, which was "just up the road."

It wasn't.  As she drove us to her fast food breakfast, I checked my phone clock every five seconds, sadly counting down to the beginning of the class I was not attending.  When I am frustrated, I become stupidly polite, so when she offered to move my seat back so as my knees weren't on top of her dashboard I assured her, "Oh, it's alright!  This is so comfortable!"  When 9:10 passed and we hadn't even gotten to McDonald's, she suddenly became despondent and apologetic.  "I'm so sorry, Tricia.  I shouldn't have dragged you into my craziness.  I'm so sorry!"

It was weird.  She ended up dropping me by the building, where another girl was hustling through the hallways.  We determined we were headed in the same direction, and she burst out, "Oh, good!  I prayed that God would send someone to walk in with me late!"  I'm not used to these seminary outbursts of "praise the Lord!" and attributing every little detail of life to God's sovereignty.  Those people are either acutely aware of God's interactions with us, or they are simply ridiculous.

Anyway, I was fifteen minutes late to my first postgraduate class, which was taught by my seminary PRESIDENT.  Oops.

That wasn't even the most stressful part of my day, but it's midnight, so I'll be brief.  Another acquaintance told me I definitely had to be in a two-year weekly DTS small group, which I knew nothing about and was way late to sign up for.  She told me I had to hurry to the advising office and figure it out, but we were in chapel (which ran late), and I had only thirty minutes to get to my job while inhaling lunch as I drove.  No time for advising.

I fretted like, A LOT A LOT, because I'm already over-committed to two weekly Bible studies, and seminary unexpectedly kicked my butt (or rather, my brain, which is not used to prolific vocabulary and hours-long chapter readings).  Eventually I asked my boss if I could call advising, and I spilled my guts to them.  "Oh, people in the counseling track don't have to do that."  Ugh.  I mean, I was glad.  But way to worry for nothing.

After my anxiety-ridden day, I just wanted ice cream.  I remembered going to a Braum's near my house, but long story short, I got lost, and it took forty minutes for me to get ice cream from somewhere else that wasn't nearly what I wanted.  Then I went home and spent four hours doing schoolwork.

My brain is mad at me.  "Last week all we did was lie around reading and watching TV!" it complains.  "What are you doing to me!?"

I don't know, brain.  I'm so sorry.