What Am I Doing? Seriously?

Okay, so I've been having a lot of freakouts lately (it's tedious, I know this) but I can dig it. I'm tough. No problem. But today...ah, today. Today is killing meeeeeee. Well, maybe not with the actual death (mind you the day isn't over yet so maybe I shouldn't count my chickens before they're crushed by the enormous weight of my financial obligations) but definitely with the soul crushing and the whatnot. So anyway, somehow (I know exactly how but I prefer not to dwell on the details at this time) I've gotten myself into the ridiculous position of having more hours worth of work than the day has actual hours and yet am faced with the financial necessity of having to get yet another job in order to both pay my bills and save money for grad school. Woo fucking hoo. And I need to go to grad school so I can keep my teaching job at the college next year. You all know this. This is nothing new. But...

This morning I found out that somehow I've managed to screw up the assignment schedule of one of my classes so dramatically that I could conceivably not be hired back next year by reason of sheer dumbfuckedness (it's a word). But I'm not sure yet because NO ONE is getting back to me about it! Grrrr. It seems like a pretty big fuck up to me but perhaps I'm blowing it out of proportion in true Ange style. Who knows? Not me. So now I'm riddled with anxiety. And my other job (the one where I actually have a set schedule that requires me to leave my house and mingle with the people), is now having staffing issues that have made it necessary for me to alter my work schedule indefinitely to fill in the gaps which makes getting another job (the one I need to save money for grad school) and/or having anything even vaguely resembling a social life pretty much impossible. Why am I 31 and still having to scramble around with multiple jobs and freelance crap everywhere? Why!? Oh right, because I'm a dumbass who went to school for a million fucking years instead of getting a real job and now finds herself having to go to school for another million years (okay, actually it's 2 more years for the masters and then another bunch for the eventual doctorate) in order to get herself into a decent paying position where she can actually pay for her oh so impressive education which will in turn allow her to take home pretty much what all the people who didn't get into ridiculous debt going to school take home from their minimum wage retail jobs. Yay me! Way to go with the life planning. I should insert here that I am aware that I'm totally exaggerating here but I can't seem to stop myself at the moment. It's like a disease.

I give up (not really). Seriously (but not actually). I'm going to be a waitress forever (okay, quite probably). It's obviously my destiny (at least part time anyway). The student loan people can kiss my ass (yep, nothing to add here). I'm never going to be in a position where I can pay them back (okay, maybe). Never (or someday, just not now). Whatever. I should just declare bankruptcy, flee the country and come back in 7 years and start over (don't worry, I'm way too lazy). Of course the student loans will still be there, but hey...you can't have it all. Anybody have $50,000 they can send my way (seriously, please?)? Because that would be great (it really would). I'm going to go curl up into foetal (or is it feotal?) position and watch tv for the rest of the night (or day and then night if you want to be pissy about it) and pretend I'm not on the verge of some enormous emotional and financial crash (just call me John Denver). I also have a supply of strawberries and non-fat cool whip so I'm pretty much set.