Be still, my beating heart.

I crept unwillingly out of my covers this morning, staving off the early beachy chill with yoga pants and a hooded jacket. I chewed an apple pensively as I meandered toward my 7:30 am Old Testament class, uneasy over the three impending midterms and speech (how did this happen?) that had loomed in the back of my mind all last week, having been postponed because of the fires.

But once I saw the first, I relaxed and remembered how much I love test days. I got out of class ten minutes early and took my time making breakfast and selecting a proper outfit for my speech. In Psych I finished the midterm there and rather leapt out of my seat to redeem my much-deserved thirty minutes of freedom. In Communication I uploaded my PowerPoint, and everyone else's, and delivered a five-minute informative "Knowledge is [Executive] Power" as well as I could expect myself to. I'd been practicing it all week and in doing so had memorized the thing. I stuttered occasionally as I always do, my tongue overwhelmed by the task of choosing the most effective words to express my thoughts. But the words escaped eventually.

I ate a banana and strode to Psych Convocation for midterm number three. Assured that puzzling over my answers would not likely improve my score, I dashed off the Scantron and exited as awkwardly as one wearing "interview casual" in an auditorium seating 300 freshmen and leaving first could possibly exit.

Then I came to work and checked my e-mail. My World Civ professor asked me to edit his book (quoted below). I would be paid out of department funds. Be still, my beating heart.