Puppy Lovin'.

This is my first dog as an adult. I am enjoying it, despite the sheer exhaustion. He's not at square zero with potty training so it could be worse. Though writing a paper on African American reparations while someone cries on the other side of a baby gate (or chews the crap out of your toes) is certainly challenging. We're getting by.

I Am A Disaster.

I am running down the street to clock in for class, though thanks to missing the early bus by about a minute, I am probably going to be a few minutes late. I've got a very large, heavy duffel around my neck, a plastic box full of perm rods in my hand, and my other hand contains a muffin, which I am furiously stress-eating as I hurry down the street. My coat is freshly stained. I have developed a hobble a few minutes after getting off the bus and am now in a full-stage limp. I'd love to stop and take off my boots to figure out what's happening there, but I can't spare the extra time so I'm trying to walk through it. (I discover later someone has left a Lego in the heel of my boot, explaining the excruciating pain in my foot).

A guy on the sidewalk sees me and says, "Well, hi there." I halt, confused, and reply, "Hello" back. Though because my mouth is packed, it comes out "FuhFOH" and little bits of poppyseed muffin spray from the corner of my mouth. He looks horrified and mumbles something as he turns away. I stagger on. Somehow I actually manage to arrive a few minutes early to class.

I've completed my first week back to school. I made it all five out of five, which for me is unusual. Every week after this one I'll be going six days a week. There are sixteen weeks total, though if I can maintain great attendance, I can finish in twelve. One down, eleven to go! 

School Zone Ahead.

My class schedule for this upcoming semester looks a tad insane. I'll be interested to see what it's actually like when I'm doing it every day. Maybe it won't be as bad as I'm anticipating. Every time I think about school starting back up, I get incredibly depressed. I like being at home. I like having dinner with my family. I like not having to tell Shamus to entertain himself so I can do my homework. I like cooking! What a funny departure from the me of two years ago who would skip off to school whistling a tune. Where'd she go? Four months of madness to get through.

 Favorite picture I've taken lately- My gorgeous son and his gorgeous purse. It was my free gift for renewing my Vogue subscription. He immediately snatched it up. That kid can really pull off a black sequin. (Chance's still on his photo strike. I'm respecting his bubble. Though they are totally due for some Sears portraits or something before they get any bigger...)

*Edit: That picture of Jack and Shamus totally gave me deja vu. I call it "Three Kids, One Pair of Striped Pajamas".

Chance.

 Shamus.

Jack.