I survived the worst week so far... survived alive and kicking on top of the heap.
It has been wicked, averaging four hours of restless sleep, reportedly talking and tossing all night. Singing too. I'm told I sing in my sleep.
This morning I had the wickedest test of all. Linguistics. I studied for six hours last night. Was in bed by 1230am, up at 5:15 running on slick icy streets while reviewing morpheme handshapes of classifier predicates. I dont even know how to apply this stuff to my own native language.
Ran out the door a Woman In Charge and spilled scalding hot tea all over the back of my hand.
Can you believe it?
Its much better looking now. My entire hand puffed up pink and made testing a lessor priority.
But for show-and-tell everyone OOOHED and AAAHED and made sad faces for me. Now its blistered and slathered with poopy looking burn ointment.
The week was saved from worse-ness when one of the instructors admitted that she was so far behind that she wasnt going to collect any homework till next week. And So... the impossible becomes possible.
Its Thursday night and that means till noon tomorrow this time is all mine.
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