Thursday, October 2, 2008


I'm a student and I work hard; harder than most. This semester, my schedule's booked solid with eighteen (18) credits. I'm taking both my 5000-level ARTH courses this semester, have facilitated an additional 5000-level Directed Study which requires me to compose a lengthy, rather involved paper and I've got my Major Paper on my plate as well. As if the Major Paper alone wasn't enough to contend with, I've got to write the whole darn thing in one semester since my adviser is on a phased retirement schedule and won't be around in the Spring. In light of all this, I've practically moved into the Flemish Art section at Wilson and have been lugging around a little over half of the Corpus Rubenianum. Oh, and I run AHUGA too! As taxing as my academic endeavours may be, I'm relatively happy with how my undergraduate program is turning out. But there's just one little thing...

Yet again I received a text message from my boss. She wants me to come in at 5:45 am tomorrow because she "feels awful and could really use the sleep." She has graciously volunteered to come in at 8:00 am when I am scheduled to arrive ("pfff, what does Emily need sleep for?").

Scroll back up and read the above paragraph. I'm already tacking a 30 hour work week onto that school schedule, against my will. 20 hours? Exactly what I wanted. 25? Steep, but managable. 30? Outrageous. Ludicrous. No, no, no! I'm putting my foot down. Will I go in early tomorrow?


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