Heart Attacks and Pocket-Comb Moustaches

It does not bode well that it's only my first week of review classes and I already feel like I'm having a mini heart-attack.

Contributing factors:

1. There are only 4 people in my state science review class.


2. My instructor for this class is The Evil Witch. I actually haven't had her in such a long time that I had to doublecheck her nickname on my blog before posting it here. It is difficult for me to believe I once despised her quite so much as to nickname her The Evil Witch, but I figure, if I give it a little bit of time, I'll probably be reminded of why I chose the nickname. Thankfully she was bearable on our first day though. But she still talks incessantly about her child when, truly, no one cares.


3. Thankfully I don't think The Evil Witch remembers that she is supposed to hate me.


4. I remember that she's supposed to hate me.


5. There are only TWO people in my state massage review class. TWO PEOPLE. One of which is Yours Truly. The other of which is my girl-crush, which is both good and bad luck since a) she is my girl crush = good luck, and b) she doesn't often come to class, and if she does, it's not always on time = bad luck, as this will mean that I will frequently be the only student there. Which leads to my next point...


6. Scrub Nazi is teaching my state massage review class. On our first day, he went over EVERY SINGLE SCHOOL POLICY AGAIN as though we aren't in our last semester and haven't heard it 500 times and didn't in fact realize that a) we're required to wear scrubs, and b) no piercings. I am horrified to think that I once had a bit of a crush on the man. Horrified. He is not a BAD man, but still: horrified. I mean, seriously: the man listed off amidst his school-policy lecture the fact that we should have our fingernails cut short. And we're not actually massaging anyone this semester, so the only situation I could even fathom arising would be that I might trip and accidentally fall onto my own finger with my eye, and even if this DID take place, short fingernails aren't going to jack shit when my finger is nonetheless knuckle-deep in my eye.


7. I am already overwhelmed by the amount of info that we're going to be plowing through each week. Overwhelmed, as in my tummy hurts right now, here, today. Overwhelmed, as in I sat and listened to my instructor's lectures on-line today while working (for this first week's worth of material), and it took me about 3 hours to do so.


8. I couldn't remember the name of the part of the sternum that the clavicle attaches to.


9. I couldn't remember the name of the cavity on the scapula that the humerus sits in.


10. I *could*, however, remember that you should handle a man's erection professionally. But I somehow doubt they'll ask this on our state board exam.


11. I couldn't remember the name of the muscle that attaches near the mastoid process and on the clavicle & sternum. Despite the fact that it has derivations of the words 'mastoid' and 'sternum' in its name.


12. I had too much coffee to drink this morning, which is mostly unrelated but nonetheless evident.


13. Scrub Nazi has toned down his moustache a bit, but now it just looks like a stiff white version of an old man's pocket-comb.

Seriously: prepare yourself for a whole shitload of freakout on this blog in the next few months. May the freakouts at least be interestingly written.