Just taking a break from all-day homework (I actually try to learn while doing, which makes for a slow process). My class is Psychology of Personality ... dangerous for my analytic head. I can feel my brain churning and sloshing juices around like a Cronenberg prop. Not ugly or pretty.

All-day homework results in Sponge Bob marathoning and kids drinking caffeinated pop. My right ear and eye senses calm control, while my left (not my better side) battle the commotion.

Did I mention I have only four classes to go?

I find myself fighting Freud's theories because it's so easy to do and because I can't believe that my preoccupation with school and sweeping the floor every day (ie not living in a total pig sty), which causes me to rush the little buggers out the door, off to bed, and wherever else I command, will tarnish their sweet little souls into permanent buggery.

I am quite aware that my parents weren't perfect. Now, I can travel through life backwards, clinging to that mommy who was only there to help me put on those harder to maneuver Barbie clothes, or I can head straight into the elements of new memory-making at least leaving the baggage folded up in a drawer at home for safekeeping instead of placed in an L on my forehead.

Some Neo-Freudians hold parents responsible for adult personality too. I cringe. The broken record plays I am one tough woman for child rearing and studying simultaneously. It once played Shoulda finished college seven years ago.