I have yet to start graduate school and I already have two orientations (a total of three days), a big drunken party, and 126 pages of homework looming before me. I've begun to feel a tightening of my asshole and stomach as if a panic attack might burst forth upon me. The freak outedness is increased when I think about the two jobs I'll be working in addition to my studeies.
But ya wanna know what really weirds me out??
When you're a graduate student, all the profs let you call them by their first names. OH MY GOD! My favorite prof referred to her and hubby as "Donna and Mike". And another prof I don't even know yet (the one with the 126 pages of homework) nonchalantly signed his e-mail, "Derrick." Not to mention a wild "Wooohooo" in the midst of the e-mail, but that's another post entirely.
I'm not sure I can handle first names. I was raised in Texas where you call your superiors "Mr." or "Mrs."...."ma'am" and "sir". For the love of God, I might implode if I address a professor by first name.
Watch for signs of implosion in seven days.
TV: The Daily Show (how did I not watch this sooner?)
Music: I haven't the foggiest idea.
Reading: Appetities, Caroline Knapp (That was a typo, but I'm leaving it. Os, it was not Freudian.)
In my head: Spittle.