Oh, regression- you are the bane of my existence.

The last two weeks and the next 5 days of my life have been and will be possibly the most difficult of my academic career. I'm not sure if I forgot what it was like to be in school or perhaps now that I'm climbing the floors of the ivory tower- but fuck, every single day adds another dimension of anxiety and tension. It is final exam week around here. Between two final exams in my statistics class, I've been chaotically writing two 15 to 30 page papers.

My ability to juggle and think efficiently has increased ten-fold. I realized you can actually type a paper while eating, at least if you like handheld food and can type pretty quickly with one hand. It is also possible to write out (hopefully semi-coherent) Christmas cards while watching Top Chef. I'm half surprised I haven't figured out a way to drink, smoke, and read- all while in the shower.

To be honest though, I thought I was on top of it. I felt like I was making progress toward a final goal of freedom which will arrive on Tuesday when I turn in my final paper. I thought this- at least until today, when it all felt like it came crashing down. Horribly melodramatic, I know, but it wasn't until my statistics final today that I felt like drinking a bottle of whiskey- and this time without trying to do any other work.

So, what happened? Fuck if I know. I know this though, sometime around 3:45 (about 45 minutes into the exam), I hit a brick wall. For the next hour and a half, I kept trying to find a way around the wall, but as the anxious minutes quickly ticked past- there seemed to be no way around it.

And I hate to say this more than anything, but I actually felt bad about it. Believe it or not. I'm a pretty flippant person, particularly about grades and school work. I go with it. I throw in the towel when I'm done- and usually don't look back. But for the first time in my entire academic career, I actually shed a tear. I know, I hate to even write it, but it happened.

It just felt so overwhelming. So disappointing. All that work and all that time seemed to be in vain. Now I realize (after a couple of beers and hours) it isn't. And after hearing endless attempts at reassurance..."I'm sure you really did great." I still feel pretty bummed about it. I suppose it might because for the first time I really care about how I did. And I sucked.