Why is the impulse to create always greatest when I'm supposed to be doing homework?

Thoughts everywhere and explosive.

sloths.
rings.
love.
hawaii.
flow.
hip hop.
emotion running rampant.

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Trying to keep head above water until I can cut down on work hours and focus on school. The volume of material I'm supposed to be learning this semester is staggering.

Behavior Principles II is the second half of an introductory course, which means new material but lots of practice with learning it.

Survey of Behavior Analysis Literature means reading, dissecting, analyzing, summarizing, and presenting feedback on several scientific articles per week, then developing my own experimental study.

Physiopsychology is rote memorization of a whole lotta material, which will hopefully lead to developing an intimate understanding of complex biological processes that I'm largely unfamiliar with.

Volunteer program planning & management, pff, the concept of me managing people is beyond laughable and reading the textbook makes my eyes cross and brain ache. I had no idea what I was getting into with that class, and moving beyond superficial, conceptual thinking to grownup "these are the multiple factors that people must consider and take into account when they're in the real world/business sector of nonprofit management" makes me wanna just go lay down in the grass and stare at bugs for a little while.

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Moving again.
this time moving in with Derek, after two months at my current place
bloody hell I don't want to re-pack all my books and stones and wall hangings
but I do want to wake up next to D every day and go home to him + dogs
and this time we're staying put in one place for as long as possible
because I've moved 6 times in 3.5 years
and, being an Army brat, I'm pretty much over the novelty of "look! a new house!"

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Claire, my brindle square-headed baby girl, finally went to her new home. She's living with my dad, which is terrific. He needed a dog. She needed a family. Hard to let go, though, even with the stress of raising a puppy.

Fostering a dog is like getting a tattoo. I'll do it again when I forget how much it hurts.

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what's the word for the emotion you feel when you remember someone fondly but never want to deal with them again? is this one of those "blended emotions" I keep hearing about?

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I don't blog about Derek much. Several reasons for that, I think. Respecting his privacy. Paranoia about my own privacy. Up till a few months ago, trying to maintain independent lives. (Pendulum swing, ya know, after last srs relationship.) Not wanting to brag too much. Having a hard time believing that a relationship could be so easy. Talking about feelings isn't one of my strengths.

He's a brilliant, goofy, considerate man, and he makes me want to be a better person.

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alarming how quickly words build up
i'm not done yet
want to transcribe conversations
material for later
noms for thought
some of which are way too heavy to be anything but a full meal

I don't know where this came from
No desire to write for months
and now
IT'S EVERYWHERE
ALL THE TIME
MUST COMMUNICATE
gotta record fleeting thoughts before they ping off in the distance
a conceit to compare 'em to fireworks, stunning flashes of inspiration that disappear unless captured on film
or pixel
Not that they're necessarily profound
but they feel crucial, that moment,
like a flash of light
what did that illuminate?
what the hell was that?
turn it on again so I can get a better look
because that might change my course
and I'm sick of fumbling around in the dark, smacking into things

and these lightbulb flickers feel important
I'll just keep taking notes

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the stomach-twisting feeling I got, seeing hands go up after my reckless question,
vindication horror fury,
and SEE, motherfucker? this is why it's a problem
because we don't talk about this shit unless we're three or five drinks in, surrounded by other women,
because we've all lived through it
and watching that horror dawn over someone else
when what we were saying finally sunk in
goosebumps
but we'll talk about that later

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Filling out a lease app and encountering a fill-in-the-blank for hair color. "Pink." Squee.

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so much more rattling through brain. Must get to class. RAAAAAAARGH YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE LAST OF ME, INTERNET.