WEEEE

I panicked about my math class.

I had to miss my second class on Wednesday, and completely broke down when I saw the homework on line. She had apparently finished up the review, and had dove straight into Calculus. It was about translating sins and cosins, which was what almost made me fail last semester's math class, and I spent, no joke, six hours, busting my ass through that homework.

When I got to class Friday morning, I was ready to tell the teacher that I didn't think I would be able to make it through the class, and withdraw from it. I decided to wait until after lecture, sat down...

...and she was just starting on reviewing functions of functions, and hadn't even gotten into logs yet. Like...we were still in the parts of calc from last semester that I wasn't just comfortable with, but really fucking good at. We were still over a chapter behind the homework assignment she had posted on line. So I took the notes, and wound up snagging the girls homework from beside me, and saw that it was COMPLETELY different than what i had done. It was a review on basic graphing (like x^2, x^3, etc.) and we hadn't even started on transformations. When the teacher went to collect it, I showed her what i had done, and apparently, she had posted the wrong homework assignment up on line. The pages and problems were actually for her PRECALC class (which uses a different text book than us) and I had done work that was actually scheduled to be taught to us in two weeks. I have until Monday to complete the actual homework assignment, which is now comparatively easy. I just need graph paper XD

Which I did have.




Until for some reason, at the end of last semester, I decided to pack it away. We're getting ready to move, because we're trying to sale the house, so we're sort of doing a slow packing. Because when we sell it, we plan to be out within a week of closing, if not sooner, so we want it to be relatively easy (because it could happen while I'm in finals or something). So now my graphing paper, and all my notes from last semester, is in a box, in the garage, behind many other boxes, unlabeled. BLARGH.

Oh well.






Also...

I had time to kill yesterday after class, because I had to go to a training session at work for handling an active shooter on campus. That's just "What do you do" in the scenario of a person pulling out a gun and shooting up the campus. And fair warning - I am going to post a quick run down of it later, because it's stuff everyone should know. It's short, but yeah, whatever. Anyway. So I went up to Walmart to get some groceries, and decided to try on some clothes.
Last time I bought pants, I was a size 12, which was just awesome. So I grabbed some 12's, went to the dressing room, pulled them on...


...and they fell off.

I was like "...huh."

Went and grabbed some 11's....

...they fell off.

10's.
Off.
9's....





....off....


8's? Almost perfect.
7's? A little tight. But they FIT.
I'm in 7/8's.






7/8's.



From a size 18/20.









My pajama shorts i just bought are a little bit too tight, but they're smalls. The mediums didn't fit. I'm just between sizes.....








But I'm a 7/8. In some clothes, it's a 9, because they run tight, but yeah....

I squealed so loud when I pulled on those size 7's and they closed up and just squeezed that tiny little bit around my hips to make them "not yet's" but "very soon's", when just...fuck...in July, I was pulling up my 14's going "Oh...these are so close to fitting perfectly....."




EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!