Yesterday, I lost it.
I was in the presence of the most magnificant professor in the entire School of Journalism and I started to tear up. He saw the tears and said with his fabulous British accent, "Now Sharece, you've got yourself all worked up." And when I started to really cry (no sound, just water in the eyes) he said, "And now I've gone and made you cry."
Never in my life have I been more mortified. Not only did my delightful professor feel bad for my tears, but he thought it was somehow his fault.
The truth is that I have too much on my plate. There are breaks in my crazy schedule when I come home and COULD be stressing over more homework or assignments, but those are the times when I take a break to maintain my sanity. It is during those times that I relish in the laziness of nothing. I sit. I do art. Anything to keep my mind working while keeping away the stress-induced-zits that seem to be popping up everywhere.
I'm hoping my stress will cool down a bit. My "fun" class on Monday nights is over now, so I guess now I have three extra hours free to work on projects. I'll be okay. That is, as long as I can avoid crying in front of my brilliant British professor again.
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