The end of break...

Following a rather exasperating day spent in various airports, I returned home on Monday night. My trip began at 4:30am driving down the mountain in a horrendous storm and ended -- a cancelled flight and two cities later -- around 12:30am the following day. I happened to be travelling with an airline that announced that morning that it is going out of business. On flight number 1, the flight attendant was in tears. On eventually-cancelled-flight-number-2, a lottery was held to kick three of us off, as we were, as a plane, overweight. Safe in my apartment, I promptly had an asthma attack. I took my life-saving inhaler and then stayed awake until 5am as a result of the stimulants and the cat's constant yowling. Around 2am, I called my practicum and explained that I was, for all therapeutic purposes, useless for the morning.

I have already settled back into my comfortable (albeit somewhat sadistic) graduate student lifestyle. I went to dinner with a friend, read several books, cuddled my cat, and met with clients. This morning I realized that classes begin on Monday, and I should seriously consider printing up a syllabus. With a mix of elation and dismay, I noted that I have done very little in terms of academic work since the semester ended. Sure, I've read several books. But this weekend, I will be researching journals to which I want to submit an article I wrote last semester, writing an abstract that is due on January 15th, and cutting a 40 page paper into a 30 minute presentation. I'm still glad that I took a break.

I again realized that I am entirely unsuited for Life Outside of Psychology. In addition to the Christmas Eve incident, my husband and I lost our keys in the middle of a national forrest in Georgia. Oops.