I feel like the weight of the world is off of my shoulders now that my math final is done. Call me Heracles - or Hercules if you prefer the Roman version - because I've just tricked Atlas in order to give back to him the earth and sky. Ancient mythological sucker!
What will I do now? I don't know, let's think about that. I could read a book without thinking about the homework I should be doing instead. I could knit the hat I started for my husband back in aught-seven without thinking about the homework I should be doing instead. I could watch whatever Netflix has sent without thinking about the homework I should be doing instead. I could write, anytime, and now that I mention it I really need to do that since I've been late the last couple of times with the deadline. Editors don't really like it when you do that. I could do anything now that I've sent the homework monkey packing.
It's spring break! I'm a college student! I should be planning my trip to Cancun or Cabo, packing lightly and then drinking heavily. That is not my reality. My family might object to such behavior. And now that I think about it that's not my idea of fun things to do while Mexico. That list would involve much more reading and sitting by a quiet swimming pool than it would loud partying with strangers. That's what being a grown-up is, I guess, sedate activities while fully-clothed.
That's not to say that being a grown-up is boring. Right at this very moment, I'm trying very hard not to panic because there is no coffee in the house. I need to go deal with that crisis before my head explodes. I've either got to take a shower NOW and go buy a cup, or take a shower NOW and go buy some beans and then come home and make it myself. The former is probably more realistic because I don't have the kind of patience required to perform a multi-step task involved with first buying coffee and then, making it myself. Who am I, if not Paris Hilton's more astute younger sister? Except, the Hilton's have people to do the coffee buying and at the very least, the dealing of the no-coffee-in-the-house-crisis, for them. No, I am more like Paris Hilton's second cousin twice-removed's husband's love-child, having to get by on her own wits to figure out these kinds of things and rise above them. Speaking of which.