I feel like I am spinning completely out of control, spiraling down into the depths of a world I'm not entirely sure I want to be in.

Several years ago, I created a life list: 150 things I want to do in my life. But the more I thought about it, the longer it got.  150 turned into closer to 200.  I don't have a problem with wanting to accomplish a lot--I'm an ambitious person.  It's just now I'm finding that I'm so busy doing things that, while interesting, aren't necessarily what I want to be doing.

Don't get me wrong--I love the program that I'm in; I thrive on creating, but there are so many opportunities I feel like I'm missing because I am always doing homework, or always tired, or always trying to catch up on sleep because I've been so busy with homework I haven't slept in days.  (And don't ask me about my exercise schedule--it's been a week; ugh, I feel so gross!)

I suppose at the end I will have accomplished so much, and there is something to be said for that, but I don't want to miss the things that my heart really wants in the meantime.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to cross number 187 off of my list: a date in the Pacific Islands on a bush plane with a certain bear named Baloo...

Tomorrow is the due date for my entire first rough draft of my e-Harlequin and I am exhausted.

And unfinished.

I think I'm OK with that.  I did what I could.  I worked my donkey off, putting in hours and hours of writing and research, and it still wasn't enough.  It's too bad there aren't bonus points in life for trying.

It is now just after 4:30 am, so I suppose that would make the due date for this assignment due today.  In 7.5 hours.  That would be fine, although I haven't slept in days, so anything I do write will be incoherent.  And 3 of those 7.5 hours will be spent in other classes.  Plus travel time--can't forget that.  And a shower would be nice.  No, better make that a bath--I don't want to pass out from fatigue and crack my head open (Yay! My maternal instincts are really kicking in!).

My stomach has been ridiculously upset lately.  Some food stays down, some doesn't.  And no, I'm not pregnant.  (I know--I took a test.)  I think it is all the caffeine I have been living on as of late--anything to keep me awake.  Except drugs of course.  Ya, that's just not me. 

Although I have considered one thing.  Of course do you think I can remember what it is?  Probably caffeine pills.  Whatever Jessie took in that episode of Saved by the Bell to help her study.  But then I saw how that episode ended--not well.  OK, that's not really true.  Every episode ended well, like most of scripted TV.  Yay for happy endings.  Jessie got through her exam week, although I believe she was passing out or falling over or something, she recovered from her "drug abuse" thanks to good friends like Zach and Lisa, and continued on with her high school life to become validictorian.  

Wait a minute!

That's not true!  Samuel "Screech" Powers actually had a higher GPA than Jessie did!  But he's such a nice guy (who is only mildly retarded), and knowing how badly Jessie wanted the honour, he gave it up unbeknownst to her.

But wait!  Throw in gossipy Lisa Turtle and a slip of the tongue and all was revealed.  Alas, Jessie said a few words, then passed the mic on to Screech, who passed it on to....Zach?  What the hell?  That's the dummest writing ever!  Why?  He barely graduated!  He was a terrible student and a worse actor, but he gets to give the commencement speech?  Saved by the Bell, you make no sense!  Good thing you stopped the show there and didn't spend anytime in College or in Vegas for a wedding, or on any new classes.

But now I've gone on and rambled.  If only I could write the rest of my book about Saved by the Bell.  And the Golden Girls.  (Oh that Blanche.  She was a fiery one!  Retired men of the world, beware!)  Also, I think it would do everyone a great deal of good if the day could be saved by a platypus named Ovide.  (Ovide Video anyone?  Not ringing any bells?  You obviously weren't a very good Canadian child growing up...Nothing but high quality programming produced in this country!)

Now back to my book after a long, long distraction of my tween years.  So it's due in a few hours.  It's not done.  I'm close, though, I do finally have a semi-idea as to where it's going.  I've finally plotted all of that out.  I just can't think werelynx any more.  Except for right here, because I'm not trying to impress anyone or get this published and sold online for $1.99 to $2.99 a read.  Although I would be happy to accept most forms of payment for your reading pleasure, should you feel such pleasure from reading such.

In the meantime, I have another script to write.  No, make that three (a sketch, a monologue, and a full-length play).  Dang.  It just never ends does it?  Well, only 40 more days of classes until exam week and winter break.  Awesome.  40 more business days until I get to go to bed!

These past few weeks I've worked really hard.  Really hard.  I suppose I deserve a reward for my efforts.  Something that doesn't contain caffeine ("God, please no more caffeine!" she said as she thought about how else she could possibly stay awake tomorrow on zero sleep!), but I haven't got a clue what I'd like.  Aside from rest and a night of no homework.  No, make that a week of no homework.  Man I miss you, summer! 

(And I miss you, too, Ovide!)

Last week I had read that interesting quote about having time for everything.  (If you have no idea what I'm talking about, scroll down two posts.  It's right there.)  It was the whole idea that if all of these great, famous people from history can accomplish so much, surely the everyday person will be able to do just as much.

Well, it turns out I am neither great nor famous, although I am a person.  But otherwise, that's all we have in common.

I felt motivated, ready to tackle the world.  Time was no longer an excuse for me to not accomplish or complete things.  Anything and everything was achievable.

But since that time, I have been able to allow reality to set in.

I took an inventory of how much time I am spending on things and how much I want to spend on life.  I discovered that I am spending 48 hours a week in school.  That doesn't even include homework time yet.  Easily add another 15-30 hours per week for that.

Yikes.

There are only 168 hours in a week.  That means I'm spending almost half of them on or in or travelling to and from school.

That's a lot.

Plus I like to sleep.  (Not too much.  In a perfect world I would never have to sleep again--I like accomplishing things more than sleeping.  Actually, I can't stand sleeping.  It is a total waste of time!  So let me rephrase that, I have to sleep.)  Let's go with 50-60 hours a week (wow, I'm being generous there).  The way my math works, that gives me 38 hours each week for "extra."  By extra, I of course mean exercising, family time, unstructured relaxation, chores, church, meal preparation, and social life.  Oh, and of course writing and other hobbies.

38 hours is a lot.  But it's really not enough.  Maybe I'm just crazy, but I don't see the balance there.  70-80 hours of working my "donkey" off and less than half the time to enjoy life?  Hmm.  And can I even call it all enjoyment?  Really, who likes chores?  Having to keep up a house, grocery shopping, meal planning, running around to take my daughter to her extra-curricular activities?  Sure, I like driving (and of course I love my daughter!  But I'm an introvert--I crave me-time more than anything else in the world; I can't survive without it!).  I also like mashed potatoes.  But that doesn't mean that I should spend all of my "free time" with mashed potatoes.  That's just ridiculous.  Tempting, but nevertheless ridiculous.

So I'm sorry, Mother Theresa.  You did some awesome things in your life, but did you have to spend 80 hours a week on school?  Yes, Michelangelo, you painted some awesome chapel ceilings, but how long did it take you?  Months and months and months.  Try doing it all every single week.  It's not even that my program is difficult, it's just really time consuming.  So I'm sorry awesome quote, but I don't think you're so awesome anymore.  You're just full of a bunch of famous names and offer a view of a reality that does not exist!

Now if you'll excuse me, I have about 41 hours of school to attend to.

I recently started a new class on Wednesday evening.  It's called the Spoken Voice, but it felt more like a lamaze class, assuming I actually know what that's like.  (I've never been pregnant, despite the jokes I used to make at the dinner table to get attention.  Oh to be 14 again.)  It basically consisted of lying on the floor and breathing.

And then we did partner work.

I was paired up with a guy, so it really felt like a lamaze class should, except for the fact that I had never met this strange man, let alone be having his baby.  But it felt like it should--his arms on my waist to make sure I am taking full breaths in my stomach, of course, again with the exception that he wasn't my husband and I'm still not pregnant (not that I'm trying, either.  But I'm also not trying not to get pregnant, so you know...).

I'm looking forward to next week's class.  In the meantime, if I decide to give birth this week, I can totally give a speech at the same time.

I read an interesting quote today:

"Don't say you don't have enough time. You have exactly the same number of hours per day that were given to Helen Keller, Pasteur, Michelangelo, Mother Teresa, Leonardo da Vinci, Thomas Jefferson, and Albert Einstein."

- H. Jackson Brown

It made me wonder--am I really that bad with my time?  If I was a better organizer, could I paint the ceiling of a chapel or convert the masses to Christianity?  Or like Einstein, would I just fail math?  (True story.  I know, because I saw it on an episode of The Bugs Bunny and Tweety Show in the early 90s.  That, and he was known for cutting class--math was too easy for him, he sort of stopped trying for a while.  Maybe that means there's hope for the rest of us?  I like cutting lunch and recess, does that mean I'll be an expert retirer later in life?)

In the meantime, it has really made me reassess my goals.  Tomorrow I think I am going to get to work on the cure for rabies.  I know Pasteur already discovered it, but no one knows him for that.  With him, it's all about the milk.  I figure if I can get known for curing rabies, that means that my real success will be something cool like perfecting teleportation.

Or bull riding.  Yeah, that'd be cool.