There were a lot of people just standing around the doors. Even though I knew I was in the Hispanic part of the city, I was still amazed at the fact that I was the only white person in sight.

Nevertheless, I walked into the building and looked around. I saw the bookstore, so I walked inside to see how many books I needed. Turns out I'm supposed to get the list of books I need AFTER the first class. I smile and thank the lady.

Then I start the hike up to the fourth floor. (No elevator in this building that I know of). I stop at every level because I am out of shape AND I walked about 6 blocks to get to the bus stop. I finally get to the top floor and see some chairs.

I plant my ass on one of the chairs to catch my breath before I look for my classroom. I still have 15 minutes or more before my class starts. No big hurry. I look around while I'm sitting. Turns out, I'm sitting directly across the hall from my classroom doors.

There is a sign on the door that says, "Accounting class, CRN# ????? with David Miller has been cancelled. Please visit the A&E office to reschedule" or something to that effect. I re-read it. And then again. I kept staring at it. Then I checked my pink registration slip... yep, same CRN number, damn!

I sit there for awhile longer, just still catching my breath and trying not to get upset. No explanation, just one little note. I stay there for a bit longer when I see someone else (in worse physical shape than myself) huff and puff outside the door while she read it. She sighs and then turns around and goes back down the stairs.

I wonder why I wasn't called. I had my number on the registration slip. I had my address. It's not that hard to let people know so they can reschedule AHEAD of time. I decide to get up and leave.

Upon getting downstairs, I don't feel like I want to walk home (even though it's slightly downhill about 95% of the way). I see a small line behind a rope, so I go to figure out what it's a line for. Ahhh... it's for people that are still trying to register. That would be me, I guess. Now.

I stand in line. I listen to spanish. I zone out. I feel so disconnected from everything. This class was going to help me get back on track. Does this mean I'm not ready yet? Does this mean I'm not meant to be educated again? Did this happen because I signed up for the class? Does everything I do have to be wrong?

I finally get to the front of line only to find out that another accounting class is NOT going to be offered at this campus, and the guy doesn't know where the other ones are, if there are any. And he says I can sign up for some other campus, but that means I miss the first class.

The first class is so critical though. It lets you know what you're going to learning, how you like the teacher, how well you think you will do, how excited about the class you'll be. But I would miss it. It's too late now. It's too late to make it to another campus and make sure I don't miss the first class, because Tuesday was the first class for everyone.

I think about the ASL (American Sign Language) class that I was excited about and wanted to take too, but it was at the same time as the Accounting class. The same time as the accounting class. The same time, as in, I missed it while finding out my class was cancelled and then waiting in line to find out nothing more.

I drag myself away from the building. Did I mention that Sunday night I went bowling with Tim and Ryan and my left butt muscle got pulled funny when I slid on the lane? Well, I really started to feel it on the walk home. I was limpy and tired, and getting a bit hungry. I walked and walked and walked. I didn't ride the bus back. I walked and walked some more.

On the way home, I saw a book store called "Dog Earred Books" and I said to myself that I had been wanting to find a used book store so I could get Ryan some more books. This was perfect! I walked across the street and wandered in. I found a few books and then paid and left. At least I'll make Ryan happy.

I get home and sit on the couch. Maxine lays on my lap. I don't want to move. I don't want to do anything, and then I realize the dryer has buzzed and I think about the fact that our electric and gas bill were much higher last month than normal. So I get myself up to turn off the fan.

Next day:

I am supposed to get up to go into work with Ryan so I can work out and then we can play DDR after work. I lay in the bed, dead to the world. I still hurt. I have a dry throat. I ache. When did I get so old?

So now I've missed twice this week that I was supposed to work out. I haven't even gotten a month done yet, and I'm already breaking form. I remember that last night I ate chips and sat in front of the TV like a lump. I cry. I wanted to take that class. It was the one thing I was looking forward to, something GOOD for me.

So I don't even shower. I'm lazy. I wonder if I care anymore. And yet, I wrote this entry to make sure that I could get the emotions down on "paper". To make sure it wasn't just going to fade and let me think that YES, I'M BETTER NOW. I shouldn't be having a bad day every once in awhile, I have bad days when I have bad days. I know that I can have a bad day, but that doesn't mean I should just dismiss them and think that if I forget about it, it never had emotion attached to it.

I'll stop now.

Carisa