Someone talk me off the ledge

Oh.  My.  Lord.

It's been a long time since I've been in grad school.

Forget for the moment the fact that some punk working at the UC Bookstore called me "Sir" yesterday.

No, let's deal with the fact that I just got my first set of readings for my "Intro" class.  I read them. Or I think I did.  I remember starting them, and then there was a momentary blackness, after which I saw a stack of pages laying face down next to the page I was staring at.  I think I read them.  I really do.  But I'm not really sure what I just read.

Now.  Let's accept the fact that I'm coming from a vastly different discipline and career path than the rest of the class.  Let's accept the fact that even when reading about minutiae of musical subject matter, my head spins.  Let's accept the fact that I've never really been able to process these sentences that twist and turn and end up devouring themselves.  Accept all that and I'm still freaking OUT!

I just tried to explain it to Faith and Mari.  No, not explain the content, but explain why it was so hard.  (They think it's funny that Daddy has homework now.)  I told them that it would be like a person hearing them talk about the finer details of the various incarnations of My Little Pony throughout the years, when that person not only had never seen the show, but didn't actually even know what a TV show or even a pony was.  Then, that person would have to write 2 pages on what they had heard.

Nod and smile.  Nod and smile.

I've now had a couple drinks and am going to try again.  I have called in help from my friend who went through this program - hopefully she can provide the one thing I need right now...CONTEXT!  I am praying that things will turn slightly less academic soon - but I'm going to go down swinging either way.

Ugh.

Matt