What price the fine feathers?

Well, things are much better. My counselor couldn't see me at all because she was booked into next week (Poor woman. She's always being pulled in ten different directions at any given minute. I sometimes wonder whether she has time to eat, sleep and go to the bathroom.) so she gave me referrals to see a homeopath and get something temporary done for the depression and the sleeping disorder to tide me over to my finals next week. We will be starting therapy sessions afterward. I didn't contact the homeopath because I am not really big on this stuff, and I discovered that I could function and study rather better as long as I stay out of the house and avoid my parents as much as possible. I feel almost normal now, only I can feel my emotions simmering sinisterly close to the surface, like a tickle in my throat, even though I feel calm and collected for the most part.

I've been spending inordinate amounts of time at campus for the past two days. Normally, I never hang around there unless I have class since I've never really had a particular crowd to hang out with, but the change of environment helps me focus, and since it's finals week and there's a lot more studying and a lot less hell-raising going around the place, it's actually motivating to study there. Luckily, I'm not a person who feels lonely easily; give me a book and an MP3 player and I don't need any direct human contact for hours. Having them around makes good scenery though. *g*

Basically, I've turned my academic life around. I'm getting a medical certificate to pacify my professors, and they are going to let me make up most of the assignments I missed. It turns out that I haven't done so badly in Biology as I thought; despite the absences, I should still be able to pull in an A-minus if I do well in the final. The Statistics prof, sweet man, is letting me retake all the quizzes and assignments, and I have a good feeling about the final. Psychology is a wash-out, though, as this is the class that suffered most from my sleeping disorder. Luckily, the Psych Prof is also my school counselor, and she was sympathetic enough to advise me to get a 'incomplete' on her course this semester, and rejoin next semester, since it's too late for me to withdraw from her class outright now. Which means that the stress of doing my research paper has now been lifted. Thank goodness. It's one of the things that's been getting to me the most. I can be accused of many things during the course of my academic career, but half-assed research projects aren't one of them.

But anyway, to get to the point of this post.

( Make-up + Clothes = They put you up on a Billboard )