I'm now a student. All over again.

I have my ID card, I'm registered, I've navigated the bureaucracy as successfully as any. I have yet to meet my advisor, but the five of us in the program are being fêted at a "faculty reception" tomorrow evening. I've heard it's all fancy-schmancy, which means I will have to once again read the directions on the back of the make-up bottle so I remember what to do. Normally I might not bother, but it's TTOM and I'm zitty.*

I'm slowly (s.l.o.w.l.y.) getting settled in. I have papers all over the place for my class, so I think that's a good sign. It's a new mess rather than an extension of the moving-in mess, so we're getting somewhere. Being here, on my own, after living at home (in the bosom of my family, as the Victorians would say...but no one in my immediate family is busty enough to make that literally possible) is a HUGE shock. I have music on all the freaking time to keep from flipping out from the quiet. It's nice to hear CDs I haven't heard for years. On the other hand, I'm afraid I'm going to tire of my stuff sooner rather than later. That is one of the benefits of OCD- repetition is good.

Repetition is good.
Repetition is good.
Repetition is good.

In my teaching class, we had to comment upon essays written by students in years past. I sounded like quite a jackass. I stuttered and stumbled all over myself. I was also horrified at the sheer lack of writing ability from most students. I don't want Nobel Prize winner wannabes. That would just...suck. But something to work with would be nice. The upside of today's embarrassment is that I know better now of what problems you can work with and what basically leave your hands tied except for saying "Um, well, start over." Pat on the back, send you on your way.

What in the bloody hell did I get myself into?

Overwhelmed. That's what I'm feeling right now. Just over-freaking-whelmed.** If "whelmed" is at sea level, I'm cresting Mt. Everest, about 10 feet from packing myself into Sputnik and orbiting earth.

My appetite is totally disregulated because of a chaotic schedule, and nervousness always makes me lose my appetite. I don't know if I'm eating enough. Probably. I have a meal plan, and I think it's pretty close to what I'm eating. I keep telling myself that I need to focus on all this other stuff to get my anxiety levels down from Mt. Everest to at least K2, but that won't do me a whole lot of good if the anorexia starts to get out of hand.

Crap. Just crap.

There are about four orientations before the official start of classes. I intend to skip two of them because they seem to be fairly pointless. Our science writing orientation has a special visit from the counseling center. I almost want to tell her not to come that I'll be able to recognize symptoms of every major psychiatric disorder and give them referrals and suggestions for proper medications. One thing I found out that sounds good is a weekly mindfulness/meditation session on campus every week- and it's FREE!

But I have to get up early tomorrow morning and then spend all afternoon in orientation, followed by faculty reception. It's bedtime for me. I'm whipped.

*I learned last night that if a little pimple cream is good, a lot isn't necessarily better. I had to wash it off because it was burny and tingly. Needless to say, my ID photo was less than ideal, though I don't know of anyone who has an ideal ID card. I used to have hair (with bangs!) that was halfway down my back when I was 16 and got my licence. I had to get my picture re-taken at 21 when I renewed because my hair was short and no one recognized me. Not good at airport security. I don't look like a Yeti, so I'm satisfied. It's only for a year, though I do intend to squeeze student movie theater tickets out of the damn thing for years to come.

**I would love to know what "underwhelmed" is. I don't think I've ever experienced it.