The countdown is on. There are 13 hours until I take my comps. I've made lists and notes and lists with notes. I've studied more than the last 6 years of school combined--I'm still not sure if that's good or bad. I am still battling a cold. I apologize in advance to the people who have to sit next to me and try to concentrate on their essays and not my bright red nose with kleenex stuffed in it. I will find Dayquil and stop taking whatever it is that's making me incredibly drowsy. I will forget the fact that I'm also battling with devilish cramps and am beyond bloated (though I've already lost 4 pounds eating only broth and pudding for 3 days). I've hit a wall where I can study no more. I've memorized short stories, plots, characters, themes, conclusions, all to no doubt be inaccessible to me in the morning when I'm desperately trying to remember if the woman in "A Modern Dragon" is Araminta or Evelina or Hetty Fifield--all names which are vitally important until 3pm tomorrow when I declare everything forgotten. I was supposed to celebrate, but apparently everyone will be in the cities with the "fun" lit. person. No worries. I will prolly be ill. I will prolly spend the 2 hours following the comps in the bathroom--we all know what happens when I get nervous. I still have nightmares about my first 2 months of teaching.

Speaking of my dreams, last night I had a dream that I was at my student's house--visiting with his mother. Apparently I was making my way to the bathroom and walked past his roommate's room--another student of mine--and saw him in his underwear. I said something like "This is prolly crossing teacher-student boundaries." Then I went back into the kitchen and sat there. Later, I was driving around with Jessica Simpson and we decided to put the top down on her car. Somehow we screwed up the car and went to some guy's house to fix it. His wife wouldn't let him fix the car because it was after work hours. They had like 7 dogs in the house--2 shih tzus that I remember--and they all came out and peed on our stuff. Tell me what that means. Ever since Mon. I've been afraid of my dreams coming true. I have the gift, I tell you. See! See what the comps make me do. All work and a nasty cold makes me a crazy girl. I can't tell you what my excuse is the rest of the time. Ach.