Goooooooood lawd.

These past few weeks have been cah-razy. Boyfriend recently moved into my basement. He was talking about moving out for awhile, and we brought it up to my mom and she just said "Well, you're here half the time anyway. You can put all your stuff in the spare bedroom." His rent is doing random things around the house that Mom won't/can't do. So far, he's changed the lights out front (something Mom just never got around to) and fixed the fence in the backyard that blew down during the blizzard last month (Mom says she can't do 'back-breaking labor', yet pushes herself all the time. Anyway, it was best Boyfriend did it).

Today I started my second semester of my freshman year of college. At the moment, I'm sitting in my bff's bedroom with her and Ethan. Samantha and I are doing our homework (well okay, I'm obviously distracted) and I'm already frustrated with one of my classes. I don't want to be an entrepreneur, so why bother taking the class?

Secret? The only reason I haven't hit the drop button is because Sam over here keeps looking over my shoulder and lecturing me about it.

Other than that, though, I'm loving my other classes. I'm taking geography, which I've always had a passion for. I'm also taking the required English Comp 1, which involves a lot of writing. Along with those, I'm taking Intro To Early Childhood Education and Child Psychology. I've pretty much settled on my career plan. I want this.

I'm going to be a doctor.

There. I said it. I'm going to be a god-diggity-damned doctor. But if someone has a heart attack, you should still call 911. No, I'm going to be a psychiatrist.

Okay well Friendly's beckons for my hardworking, studying, dilligent butt.

(Sam saw me write that and wants to argue: "Stephanie, I didn't even see you do anything.")
She just caught me on Facebook a few times. I swear that I was working. After only one day of class, how much is there to be done? Really now.