And then he moved to Argentina

It's Thursday but it seems like a Friday and I'm exhausted. My summer Spanish class(es) is consuming me and it has me feeling a bit masochistic; I like slaving away at something quantifiable, practical, unfamiliar. I don't have time to do much outside of Spanish and I don't care, can't care, because feeling guilty about it only distracts from the work in front of me. I'm forced to put everything and everyone else out of my mind. Sometimes I think I'm only really okay when I have so much to do that I just barely get by.

Oh, I should explain: I'm taking three 4-credit first-year Spanish courses in nine weeks this summer: Spanish 111, 112, and 113. Each course is three weeks long and one day in class is equivalent to one week in class during a normal term. We're in class from 9 a.m. to 11:45 or so five days a week. We have one week worth of homework each day (about 3-4 hours of work) and on day 5 we had a unit test that covers materials usually taught over the course of 4-5 weeks. It's challenging, but those of us who didn't drop (exactly half the class did) are pretty determined, and the instructor is flexible and helpful.

However! Tonight I am going to see The Builders and The Butchers and The Long Winters at the Wonder Ballroom in Portland with a few friends. Should be a great show and I'm happy to be leaving town for a night. Right after I take a nap.