Bumped back to earth

(thud) That, my friends, is the sound of me returning to life. My life is so bizarre right now. I heard someone use the word "bizarre" 4 times in the span of two minutes the other day, and I thought it was a tad bit ridiculous. But it did have the effect of reminding me that it is, in fact, a word that can be used as a fairly effective adjective.

I am at my internship on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, and I have class on Wednesday nights. This is ideal in many ways for my schedule, and I am happy to have it set up that way. Essentially, my life is focused around grad school for two straight days, and then I can move on with my normal life. But it has this surreal suspended quality to it, like my "real life" has been suspended for 2 days each week while I run off and play Super Social Worker, and then with a thud, I return to my everyday life. I have phone messages from two days ago, I have a lunch forlornly sitting in the freezer at work that I left there on Monday, and I have to remind myself what day it is, and what things I need to get accomplished today. It's bizarre (that's 2!). I kind of feel like I'm an amnesiac who forgets her life for two days every week, then has to figure everything out again on Thursdays. There should be medication for this. Or at least more caffeine in the ol' coffer. :)

In other news, as a part of my absence from my everyday responsibilities, I spent my Valentine's Day evening at class, and then bowling with friends late into the night (sleepy today) at "Love Stinks" bowling. The rules are clear. Couples: you are not bowling together, get used to it. Competition: fun and fierce. Love: Frowned upon for one evening, filled with "Love Stinks" black bandanas, red paper hearts that say "Bite me", "Piss off" and "Happy VD day!", and just a general resentment of the Hallmark holiday known as Valentine's Day. It was hysterical. A great group of people, and a fun occasion. And as much as I love love, it was fun to make fun of it for a night. Scott, however, beat me by 3 points in bowling. This, as I am a Thanksgiving bowler of some repute, is inexcusable to me. I may love the man, but really, all of that goes out the window in the face of 10 pins and a shiny wooden lane. After all, "Smokey, this is not 'Nam. This is bowling. There are rules."