Last year, I was in quite a bit of a funk. I don't really like my job, but the education I have is pretty limited for what I actually want to do. So, obviously that means it's time for languishing! Oh, the languishing. Anyway, I had read in the paper about a new program at a city college, and I got really excited. Like, really excited.

It was a nice feeling. I hadn't been excited about 'everyday' stuff for a while. So the last few months have been a rather raucous back-and-forth of:

"I want to go to school"

"School is expensive"

"I have a full-time job! And minimal expenses!"

"Remember when we spent all that FT money on make up, nail polish, books, and cute dresses and tights?" (At this point my brain and I were arguing as two separate entities. Like Homer.)

"Shut up. I can adult. I will make a plan! Budgets will be balanced! Discretionary spending will be slashed!"

"Uh huh. I'll believe it when I see it. Also, SURPRISE. You're engaged now and have a wedding to plan. And pay for."

And so on.

But fuck it! I want to go to school. I want to sit and learn and take notes and ace tests and make beautiful projects and get mad at useless group members and make labels for all my notebooks. So I told myself to apply. "Yeah, yeah. It's for September 2014. Applications won't be open until January!"

So what was originally just a one-person exploratory committee into dates and fees became a 'Let's make an account!' and 'We'll just fill out this profile.' and 'Let's just go ahead and apply to this program right now and request transcripts and put in my credit card information and holy shit I just applied to school."

No power in the 'verse can stop me, now.