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Fuck you, William & Mary!

School starts tomorrow and I'm way excited. I'm a 25 year-old nerd.

Classes as of now include:

Middle Ages
History of West Africa
New Testament
Intro to Study of Religion
Japanese Religions
Chinese Religions

I'm knocking out all of my history requirements this term as well as two major requirements (Intro and NT). The other two are electives. The best part is that my classes are back-to-back, so it's just like going to work or something. No down time in between. The first four start at 8 on MWF, and the last two start at 3 on TR.

I'm going to continue kicking ass this term.

I take the GRE in two weeks.

I'm going to fucking get into Duke if it kills me. And other people. I'll also be applying at Chapel Hill (the First Choice, but I won't get in), Indiana (maybe), Penn (NO WAY. Probably not even if I was the only applicant), and Wake Forest (the safety).

This week I've received alumni newsletters from W&M, my high school, and my elementary school (because that's the kind of elementary school I went to). Glad to know that my middle school tormentors are now successful, Ivy League-educated lawyers and med students. I even went so far as to set the W&M magazine on fire. How do they keep finding me, anyway? I move every year and that fucking alumni association still manages to get my address and send me glossy, quarterly reminders that I'm a failure. Fuck you, William & Mary! I'm going to go to grad school anyway, and I'm not going to be an asshole at the end of it.

But enough about that. Yay school! And I've got two of the same professors, both of whom I really like. I also have a new coffee shop hangout. The owner is a regular at Harry's, so we're already acquainted. And new jeans that actually fit me! I could have died in the dressing room. I never buy pants new, but I had to this time because I've ripped the ass out of my only two pairs of pants and I can't fix them. It's impossible to find pants, but I did it!

Oh! I joined a gym. Me. In a gym. And I actually like it. It's cheap, 24 hours (good for my insomnia), close by, and it's full of people in equally bad shape. All of us chug along to TV and bad music, too self-involved to judge anyone else. I run, I lift weights, and I do a lot of sit ups. This is the year that I reclaim the body I lost to my depression.

I should try to sleep now.

Yeah, right.