Finals, Stress and Insanity

Yesterday marked the last day of school, with two finals (well, two finals and a chapter test) and a day of presentations.

I used to think that school didn't stress bother me much. In fact, I rather like the feeling of stress, it makes things seem clearer and move faster. So, when I realized I had a chapter test (100 points) and a final (60 points) for anatomy and physiology I thought I was rocking. I hunkered down in my apartment, stocked up on easy to make foods and coffee and set to studying and crunching numbers to see how many points I needed to bring my grades up.

I studied, and studied, and studied. Occasionally, friends would call. "Can you come out?" and "Are you still alive?" were common questions. I sent back the occasional text message, took mental health breaks with my bestest best atheist (and clarified random things) and studied.

Then Sunday night came. My house (which I keep neat) looked like a war zone, my laundry (clean) was piling up on my couch (which, other than looking untidy, is fine, since the couch is horrible to sit on anyway) and I ran out of food. My world came crashing down - I still had water-balance and acid-base to study, and three chapters to review.

And my hair was in my eyes.

In. My. Eyes.

All I can do is plead temporary insanity. And when I look at my bathroom sink and trash, I know it was nothing short of insanity. For, like the evidence of a crime, 2-3 inches of my (then annoying) brown hair lay fallen, unmoving; the casualties of a lost battle with my kitchen scissors.

The point at which...

...you're running out the door and happen to glance in the mirror and realize: If I go outside with my hair standing on end, some child will see me and have nightmares for the rest of his life.

I love having short hair!