I am the CamoBack of Mount St. Vincent

So, this post is a little late coming but I had homework.  Yes, that's right, I had homework.  I now have more homework that what I know what to do with but yet, I am still ridiculously excited about that prospect.  I did overdo it a little bit on a psychology assignment but I think that's my own, "OH SHIT THIS IS GOING TO BE SO HARD AND THERE HAS TO MORE TO IT THAN THIS SIMPLE ANSWER!! WHAT! THE! FUUUCK!" process of getting things done.  I breathed, had tea and settled and then just had at it.  Got it wrong.  I was on the right path but overshot the objective and went way too far.  Like aiming to walk to the fridge and ending up in Scotland in a furniture store buying a deep freezer.

It's okay, my professor just smiled and totally understood that I was away from this for a while.  I realised that it isn't advanced psych but rather, intro psych and catered to people who are fresh out of high school who are barely off their mother's breast, some still in Cadets and most unable to sit and discuss life's biggest inquiries, such as whether or not we are passed the age to trust a fart, over a nice glass of whiskey or three.  (Hint: my discussions with the my trusted other half is that once you reach 30, farts are questionable but 35-40 and beyond, fart on the toilet.  Unless you're helping me buy my first pistol.  In that case, just walk away from me and crop dust the entire Army/Navy Surplus store.  I won't name names ... **ah hem** ... Christopher ... **cough cough**.)

I will admit that the first day was intimidating.  I had my books in my brand new military spec, digital camouflage  (Canadian, of course) and equipped with lots of MOLLE  shit (Modular Lightweight Load-carrying Equipment, if you're wondering) in case I become overloaded and need five thousand places to hold my gimpy pens and pencils or a water bottle and maybe a bus ticket.  So I was weighed down, drowning in straps and velcro, twitching and spastic, tired, nervous that I'd get my classes mixed up or not find a lecture room.  My biggest worry, which I think is a pretty normal worry, is arriving late and everyone looking at me.  C'mon, I already stick out like a sore thumb so I don't really want to be the smiling, red-faced old woman, covered in tattoos, wearing jeans and a plaid shirt, Chuck Taylor's with out of control bushy black curls, cat eye glasses and an NFA (National Firearms Association) patch on my redneck camo bag waving and apologising as I walk into the room.  I'm a bull in a China shop on the best of days so you can just imagine what me coming late to a call would look like.

Hello everyone!  

Why did no one tell me that having a backpack on was like carrying around an evil being that like to sneakily knock everything over?  I have no control over that thing and I will blame my Multiple Sclerosis.  "Sorry, MS made me do it" -- MS is the devil, it makes me do things and it's minion is this camo thing on my back.  I am the CamoBack of Mount St. Vincent.  I think I need to go to bed.

Bottom line:  I think I made a good decision here and even though I'm only going into my third week, haven't written a big assignment or suffered the dreaded mid-term exams, I can honestly say that I haven't been this alive in a very long time.  Outside of family, who knew that my favourite things would be homework and gunpowder.