25 March, 2009. 11:00 PM.

Want to curl up in a ball and sleep until the weekend. Had full day of classes, voice lessons, theory plus lab, hour of Chamber Choir, run to Lown to Vince’s class (last one, previous week had been cancelled due to him holding a CE and office hours for EMT class students), run back down for two more hours of rehearsal, curl up for an hour, go to Chum’s to perform with UTO. Fuck, simply.

Vince’s class was upstairs in Lown, and I walked in, once again expecting way more people. It’s Vince and Paul. We got handouts! We’re doing trauma today. By the time I walked in, I had already decided that I was going to be late to rehearsal. We learned about burping wounds and that the abdomen bleeds internally easily and he explained the numbers in the blood pressure when I asked. Left a little after seven, instead of ten minutes before—rehearsal can wait. Very sad that class is over forever. There were only three. ::sad face::

It was a taste of what I don’t hear about from Matt. On-campus calls are rarely to the caliber that Vince’s examples were. I’m still ambivalent about training. Not only is the training apparently difficult as hell (seeing my friends train—not fun), but the things he tells us—I just don’t know if I could handle them.

Oh well. Mother called tonight, and my first words to her were, “I want to sleep forever.” Find myself saying it a lot lately. Mental stability is still there, mostly. Matt’s keeping me sane. And safe.

(This entry marks the end of older entries. All entries following this one will be posted in real-time. Whoa. This also means that updates will be more sporadic.)