Exhausted Before It Even Begins

So I've spent the last two days in training for my writing consultant job. I was picturing myself sipping coffee, meeting my new coworkers, commiserating about the start of a new semester, and filling out a few forms.

That is not what happened.

That is so not what happened.

My life until May.

Turns out this is a job job. Not only will I consult with students, but I've been assigned a special project over the course of the semester that involves helping Masters and Doctoral students with their theses (sounds like feces for a reason). As if I know anything about Doctoral theses. In medicine. Or science. Or creative writing. Or, let's be honest, in anything.

Not only that - they want me to do a book review related to this project and they have already scheduled me to present a variety of workshops for faculty in their classes. These are not the whole let-me-tell-you-a-bit-about-writing spiels. These are detailed, major-specific, discipline-specific lecture workshops.

The introvert in me has shriveled up and died in advance. It refuses to be a part of this.

Also, have I mentioned that all of this is in addition to freakin teaching two classes of my own?

And taking two reading-heavy classes?

Who thought this was a good idea?

What I want to do until May.

Also what I want to do until May.

Last night I settled down (in bed) to read around 8:30. I don't remember anything else until I woke up at NINE THIRTY this morning. NINE THIRTY! I never sleep in past, say, 7:00 or so. This is insane. I'm not going to survive the next few months. I'm telling you.

Thank GOD Monday is a holiday and all hell won't break loose until Tuesday. I'm using the weekend to finalize and print off my syllabi, purchase the rest of the books I need for the lit classes, pull a Tasmanian Devil and organize the crap out of the house and my car, tutor a few students, prep for a week of tutoring (including a new student), and pray pray pray for my own sanity.

We are also having peeps over for dinner!!! I begged Chef Campo to help us change our 1970's ceiling fan in the dining room and in exchange, we would ply him with endless wine and homemade pasta.  (Meanwhile, Nat King Cole, my niece, Lucy, and I will be off in another room doing girly things and staying away from all the testosterone and tools in the kitchen.)

I was tempted to buy this puppy but G talked me out of it.

I mean, who wouldn't want to enjoy a home cooked meal under a bunch of swaying antlers?  My Papa would be so proud.

Before and After pics coming soon, along with the final book reviews for a long, long time.

Enjoy the weekend, peeps!