I wake up this morning (Wednesday) at about 7:30, suddenly bolting out of bed in an “oh, SHIT!” style, rushing around to find skivvies and trousers and shirt when I realize… wait. My alarm didn’t go off. Maybe I should check the damn phone before I get in a panic. Yeah, I didn’t have to be awake until 8:30. So I stand there for a minute, debating whether or not to just stay up, wake up, and study up for my exam at noon. I come to the conclusion of “fuck it” and fall back in bed, where I have a dream that it’s the end of the world, so Addy, Terro and I are all hanging out being very angel-ho! and trying to organize some salvation. Meanwhile, Adam, a dude from my German class, is an archangel in the dream… who is hiding in a fridge because he doesn’t like this whole “end of the world” business.  At any rate, the world decides to stop ending, so we’re all, “hooray”, as Adam crawls out of the fridge. And then my alarm goes off, and my day actually begins.

It begins with me finding my brother downstairs, who tells me that Dad is in the hospital. That would’ve been nice to know, oh, I don’t know, when he was being taken to the hospital? Sorry, sorry… that just bugs me that I don’t know this shit until way after it’s happened. I immediately start conjuring ideas up about how I could maybe, probably, possibly use this to get out of having to take my exam at noon, but nah, not if it isn’t serious. And I know, I know, that makes me sound like a horrible selfish bitch, but hear me out. It’s rarely serious, cos of Dad is a whiner… you know the ones that think they’re dying if they get a case of the sniffles? Not in a hypochondriac style, but a big ol’ pitiful baby style. That’s Dad. Not that I’m bad-mouthing it or anything… he’s cute as a button when he’s sick. At any rate, turns out it may actually be something, in the area of the gallbladder. Which again, isn’t serious, but hurts like a motherfucker anyway. So I’ve made sure to be extra nice and not poke fun of the sickie. He was released, and is scheduled for a test tomorrow. If it’s NOT the gallbladder though… well. Hmm.

Went on into class, banged out my exam. Didn’t go so well. I swear to god, I did actually write “Chuck E. Cheese’s” as a movement which led to the development of social work as a profession. Also, some other “prominent” figure in social welfare was listed by me as being “so not in Wikipedia”. I only choked terribly on about a fifth of the exam, which, if I get every other question right, isn’t bad. But I never count on getting everything else right…

Came back home to watch over Dad while Mom ran errands, happy for the excuse to skip out on Micro. He slept. I reorganized my papers and notebooks. Made a pizza run, and settled in for the debate. And, when I first started writing all this, I had quite a bit to say about McCain’s Healthcare Plan of Epic Fail, plus a sidetrack into just what’s wrong with the American education system (adding more strength to the idea of being a school counselor… srsly), but… now I’m just not much in the mood for that sort of talk.

Sadly, what I really DO want to talk about isn’t something I feel like talking about in a public setting… and not really even in LJ, either (though those on LJ know a bit more detail already). Just private, thankful thoughts on just how strange life is, and how lucky I am, and how amazed I am that everything I ever hoped for, but shrugged off as unrealistic, was actually very real — very attainable. As I said tonight… were it any other time, under any other circumstance, with any other person, I would be shitting my pants right now. But for once, for the first time… I’m not scared of the uncertainties and difficulties that surely lie ahead. I’m actually entirely comfortable with this. Excited about this. Hell, I even feel like I need this. This is the path set out before me, and not taking that path would defy all reason.

Knowing myself as I do… I know that being able to say that is pretty fucking monumental.