whining

I wonder if the panic and breakdown i experienced is only a natural part of any semester, especially one in which I'm embarking on something entirely new. When I started school last fall, I was, irrationally and emotionally, about to change my major back to English after trying to do my first drawing assignment. Today, as I was trying to organize the work I need to do with this photo and painting class in my planner, I panicked. There is so much work and I only am taking 12 credits. As any photo concentration at CSU knows; the majority of your work happens out of class. And, surprise surprise, the lab isn't open when I want it to be. I don't blame this on the professor, actually, I really like and respect him. It's going to be rough, and I'm trying to work up a thick skin, but I've never had a class that is quite as interesting and exciting as photo. Maybe it's just that I'm still realizing that I am doing what I want to do! Anyways, making photos is going to involve late nights (the darkroom is open from like 5or6 until 11 at night), and weekends. I need to get used to this (and not being home to just have a nice relaxing evening with my Seth. That's actually the real and only bummer). Oh, and I need some serious convincing that grades arn't everything. I will not be making As I will not be making As. I want to do this so bad, but I also know that I will learn and fail and get better, but it will take time. I might even get a C. duh duh duh
But then I have these other stupid classes that are demanding my attention. And after this semester, I will have more stupid classes. Really. I don't want to paint. I don't want to learn history (I used to love both of these thing). So when I looked at my outline of the next three semesters, and realizing that my time is going to be more and more constricted, and that money is going to get more and more tight, I convince myself that school is irresponsible. I am not contributing, I am draining our funds. And all this money is going purely to something that I might fail at.
I'm not going to drop out. But that's my natural escape.

This was my train of thought this morning. Desperation, insecurity, fear. But then I went to the darkroom for the first time. And I made a proof sheet. I fogged the first sheet, but the second test proofs came out. Sure, the first negatives I made were ruined because of error in putting the film on the stainless steel reel, hence the screwed up proofs, but it's something I made. The little moments I saw a week ago are back and I can see them all, again.

really though. these suck. not because one side is dark (we were supposed to do that), but those chemical blotches make me kind of sad. Maybe it's good though; I made a huge mistake my first time; hopefully it can only get better. and don't i look totally indie?

happy freakin friday.