Functioning normally. Kind of. Not really.

Spring semester started today. This means numerous things: I have to wake up at a normal time two days a week, I'm responsible for actual work, and I'm a handful of units closer to never attending school again. After months and months of having nothing productive to do, it's a nice change from what became the norm for me, waking up at noon and hissing at the sight of a productive activity. 

Strangely, or perhaps not so strangely(I can never tell), I currently feel as if I have no body. I'm just a floating brain/head/consciousness, typing with my invisible and nonexistent hands through sheer force of will. Is this what waking up at 7:30 does to a person? Or is it just me? When you're not in school and you have no job, these questions aren't present in your life; your biggest worry is whether or not you have enough Lucky Charms to last the rest of the week.

But never fear, I'm in no real danger of work overload this term. Thanks to the forces of the universe conspiring against me, I managed to miss my registration date by a whopping three weeks, meaning I could only obtain seven units this semester. That's right, seven. Three classes. Music 101 and 102, knocking out my Arts & Humanities requirements, and Introduction to Yoga. I feel like complaining whatsoever about my class schedule this semester is worthy of getting my ass kicked, a punishment I might find myself partaking in if it were to happen. While I'm not sure if I can literally kick my own ass, as it's not something I've ever attempted to do, I'm positive I could provide some assistance to my righteous assailants in causing myself some form of bodily harm.

I attend class from 9:30-12:30  and then 7:30-9:00 on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so it's not as if I'm on campus somewhere north of 10 hours a day, multiple days a week, like many students are. But hey, I'm also not dumb enough to major in something that requires that many obtuse classes. The joke's on you, science and math majors! While you're making your cushy six-figure salary, I'll be enjoying an ample yearly sum of $55,000-$100,000 a year as an accountant. If that's what I choose to do, anyway. Have I mentioned that I have no idea what the hell I'm going to do once I graduate? Because I don't.

Accounting is one option I'm considering pretty seriously. It involves math, a subject I've grown to loathe, but most of it is practical math, something that I somehow manage to excel at. If you stick me in a Statistics or Calculus class, it would be no different than dropping me in the middle of rural China and asking me to communicate and survive. It makes no sense in my mind. But if you apply math to things like money and economics, it clicks. There's no rhyme or reason to this numerical madness, but like many things in my life, you have to be at least a tiny bit insane to understand my special form of cognition. 

My first music class, Music Appreciation, consists of two papers, two tests, and note taking. The papers have to be five pages long, which will take me a grand total of 45 minutes each to speed through(all the while earning an A, I can guarantee), and the tests are open note. My second class is titled Intro to World Music, and is almost identical to the first, with the exceptions being our papers have to be 2-3 pages long, we have 6-10 in-class/take-home quizzes, all of which are open note, and a final that is also open note. Somehow, if all classes could follow this structure, I think a whole lot more people would be interested in obtaining a college education. Unfortunately for me, music classes lend nothing of great value to my major or potential career options, aside from assisting in the destruction of my General Education requirements.

And so, this will be my life until the last week of April. I haven't attended my yoga class yet, but something tells me it's not going to be academically challenging in any way. In a perfect world, yoga would consist of little more than the Child pose, and the teacher would just let me sleep the whole time. Though I suppose that might be asking a little too much.