This Is Classic Catherine

It turns out the financial aid office made a clerical error, which they fixed in a matter of seconds this morning. It took longer for me to explain my question than it took for them to reinstate my student loan disbursement. So I could have spared myself a panic attack, a sleepless night, AND a case of Jim Beam had I just though to myself, "Self? I shouldn't be talking to you anymore, our therapist is going to be pissed, but in the mean time, perhaps you should chill the fuck out for a second?"

Last night, poor Gray walked in the door from work just as I finished reading the letter about how my financial aid was cancelled and the world was coming to a fiery end and how Jesus loves the little children of the world EXCEPT FOR ME. His reaction to the bad news proves he's the man of my dreams: He went to the fridge and brought me a beer and said, "Here, drink this."

Back off, he's mine.

I emailed my Jill the good news and said that maybe next time a problem presents itself, that I should remain calm and collected and wait to see what happens before I start writing my suicide note. And then she proved that she's the BFF for me with her reaction: "If you didn't freak out about things I would think something was seriously wrong," like maybe that I was abusing Rx drugs.

So Gray feeds me drugs and Michelle lets me know when I've got a problem with them. It's really the perfect scenario.

And now, some photos of places I'd rather be right now:

Duluth, MN

Seward, AK

Grand Marais, MN (or anywhere with beaver flicks)((or beavers))

Custer State Park, SD

Birchwood, WI (or anywhere I wouldn't die wearing a bathing suit)