This morning was absolutely gorgeous. I went for a run, strolled through the farmer’s market, and stayed out in the sunshine for as long as I could. I shopped healthy and even broke out the TOMS for the first time in six months. No more SAD for this girl!
I was supposed to write a paper today, but instead I stretched out on the couch with the balcony door open and read the young-love passages of Save Me the Waltz. I should have felt guilty, but it was bliss. After that long, cold, lonely winter, I had almost forgotten why I wanted to be here in Galway.
Good thing I enjoyed it when I did. Within hours, the temperature had dropped and the newspapers started calling for frost and snow next week. My mood plummeted and I face-planted into a red velvet cupcake with butter cream frosting (remember how I was supposed to give up dairy for Lent?). Oh, well. I needed to do some homework anyway.
Today I was supposed to have my first class of the new semester at 10am. I arrived five minutes early – no one there. Room was locked.
I waited five minutes, frantically checking my iPhone to make sure I had the right room. One other dude shows up. He’s a History MA, so the course must be cross-listed. He checks his phone, and the History MAs have posted to their Facebook group that the class doesn’t start until next week. At this point I’m thinking I’m the only Publishing MA registered for this course.
Throughout the rest of the day, it transpires that there are seven of us in the course, but we arrived at the classroom in shifts all the way through half ten. No one knew anything about the class not starting until next week. We get an email later in the day saying the course is run by a different department and to direct our queries that way. Also, it doesn’t start until next week and, oh yeah, it’s going to be on Wednesday afternoons now.
So it turns out I have four-day weekends this semester. Which is awesome, except I really need a job.