Okay, so remember that time I posted twice in like four days, it probably won't ever happen again

Life these days has been a confusing mix of busy as shit and boring as... well... shit. I guess. My job mostly accounts for the boring part and I don't know what to do about this, really. My job is kind of boring but I like the people I work with and for and I've been here for a long time and they're really cool about working with my hours since I'm in school. I come in at 11 the days I'm not in school and basically stay until whenever I want, depending on the amount of work I need to get done and the amount of crap breathing down my neck and begging me to come home and do that instead. But it's like a forty-minute drive from my apartment and did I mention that the work I do is pretty boring? Because it is. This paragraph is basically pointless because I'm not trying to come to any kind of decision about a major life change in the form of a new job. I'll probably quit working here eventually and find something more fun and closer to where I live, but for now this is working out pretty well. Mostly.

In other news, my summer photography class is kicking my ass. When I signed up for it I was like, "Well, I mean, I don't know if I really want to take a summer class but I really need to, and I mean, it's photography for God's sake, I've taken it before so it will totally be a breeze cause I already know everything anyway. No time spent outside of class studying! Lots of extra time to sit around and stare at my belly button!" WRONG. We covered the basics in like one class period and from there it has been TAKE PICTURES PROCESS NEGATIVES MAKE CONTACT SHEETS MAKE PRINTS MAKE MORE PRINTS FUCK THESE HAVE DUST ON THEM MAKE THEM AGAIN MOUNT THEM HURRY HURRY TURN THEM IN!!! CRITIQUE OMG!!! The photography class I took last year was like... well... NOTHING compared to this. Nothing. I could have done that shit in like two weeks, seriously. I have no concept of how it took us an entire semester to get through that class. I shot like maybe four rolls of film the whole semester and only processed one of them in the darkroom. I've already shot and processed six rolls of film in three weeks and wow, it is time-consuming. I love it, I really do, and this is definitely not going to deter me from pursuing photography, but this summer class is nothing like I expected it to be. We have two more assignments -- big ones -- left to go this semester and only three weeks. Between twelve hours spent in class a week and 21 to 24 at work, it's hard to find another twenty or thirty to spend taking pictures and working in the darkroom. At least it's something I love, ja? Except for the times when I end up crying in a corner because my prints won't come out correctly even though I've done them 18 times and someone keeps opening the drying cabinet while my negatives are in there, making dust attach itself permanently to all my negatives. Which is then impossible to get off and leaves spots all over my prints. But I love this class. Really.

Also, during our critique on Tuesday, my teacher made three people cry. Out of nine. That's like one-third of the students in the class that were in tears at some point during the class period. I wasn't one of them this time, but I fully expect to end up red-eyed and blotchy before this semester is over. Art is hard.

Moving on, I have been really hungry lately. Really, really hungry. And by lately, I mean like the last two days, but still. I was really hungry yesterday and now I am really hungry AGAIN today and that's enough to create a pattern or continuation or whatever, and now I find it weird. Yesterday I was at school and had my typical lunch of sandwich and chips, which normally keeps me good until class is out, but I was starving by about three hours later. This morning I had cereal for breakfast around 10:30, which usually means I won't be really hungry again until 1:30 or so, but I was ravenous a WHOLE HOUR EARLIER. And then I ate chicken nuggets and a large fry from Chick-fil-a and I'm still not wholly satisfied. I could eat more. Normally I can't even finish that meal. What's going on? Am I feeding the stress? Am I ovulating? Is my body determined to make me obese by the wintertime so I won't be so cold? Stay tuned!

Speaking of yesterday (with the food? remember? the hunger? I spoke of yesterday, just trust me) I twisted my ankle and fell down. I want you to visualize this in your head, seriously, because it was the least elegant and most awkward thing I have done in a while, and I do a lot of awkward and non-elegant things. I stepped weirdly on some uneven pavement, my ankle went TWIST approximately perpendicular to my body, and in about a tenth of a second I had flown onto the ground. Please note my choice of words: flown. Not fallen, not... some synonym of fallen... FLOWN. It was pretty acrobatic, I think, being that my lens cap from the camera INSIDE MY PURSE popped off and flew onto the sidewalk. And seriously? Who falls? I mean, people trip a lot, you know? And then they catch themselves after a bit of a stumble and they keep walking like nothing happened. Not me! I fell. Hard. I scraped my hand up pretty well and my ankle was going, "Um, hi? What just happened? I think I kind of hurt?" and then I got up and felt dizzy. Flash forward a couple of hours, my ankle hasn't been hurting very badly but suddenly begins to hurt VERY VERY BADLY (possibly due in part to the fact that I walked around a museum on it for three hours). I begin to freak out and ponder the fact that I could very well have fractured a bone in my foot and/or ankle due to my horrible awkwardness and clumsiness. Flash forward a few more hours, and the tear-inducing pain has subsided, and this morning I am convinced it's nothing but a simple sprain, because it hardly hurts at all anymore. Just a little bit. Also the big scrape on my hand is stinging whenever it touches something, but whatever. The moral of the story is that my body likes to freak me out with horrible pain and then say, just kidding! Oh man, I totally got you. You were totally scared that it was something worse than a sprain. Man, you are gullible. Too easy.