I am experiencing exam panic.

Usually I'm very good about not panicking. On the other hand, usually I'm not going into the final exam of a class with no curve with exactly two test grades: a 68 and a 74. I have to ace this final, as in, get a really really high A, in order to pull a B- in this class.

So I'm trying really hard to make myself feel okay. It doesn't help that I've been breathing weird since I smoked those cigarettes Monday night. I feel like I can't really relax because my throat and my chest won't open all the way. No more cigarettes for me and that's a promise.

But I'm eating a Luna bar and drinking some grapefruit juice and getting ready to throw together a 3-page paper on Blake and Emerson and Whitman and their ideas about self-actualization. It's good to be back in my element... literature. Literature is much nicer than Spanish linguistics. Much more forgiving. Much more inspiring. As cool as linguistics can be... I should have taken that class pass/fail. Damn.

But look at me... I am so zen. I will be fine. I will write my paper and I will study for Shakespeare with Todd and I will go to work and then I will come home and study Spanish and I will be in bed by 1 and I will get up at 8 and take the test. And then it will all be over.