I love Alexei Nemov...

Really, a lot. ...
Anyway,
I started taking classes at U of L when I was a junior in high school.  It was really my only choice for college, because I didn't want to leave Louisville (in the manner of all silly girls, the truth was that I didn't want to leave my boyfriend at the time!).
So I graduated from high school, went to U of L full time, had a baby in between my first and second years...I finally graduated 11 years after I had taken my first college class. 
During that 11 years, I sat out a few semesters, and took every class under the sun for a few semesters.  I changed my major several times before I finally picked Philosophy, because I realized I had taken more Philosophy classes than anything else and by that fifth or sixth year I really just wanted to graduate as quickly as possible.
After I graduated, I thought I would go back immediately...it actually took me three years.  I finally went back last year.  I had to start again with baby steps, one class only, due to time and money.  I successfully finished my one class in the fall semester, and pulled myself through the spring semester.  I was exhausted but very proud of myself...two classes, two A's...
Then I found out that not only does my employer actually pay for all my college classes (don't ask why I didn't know that, this is clueless Michelle we're talking about), I found out that it would also reimburse me for the two classes I took this past year.  Wow!
Thoughts of endless, PAID-FOR school stretched out before me.  I could picture myself going back to school forever...what a wonderful dream for wanna-be professional students like me!  Last month I took a day off work specifically to go down to U of L and get all my paperwork in order... I was coming back with no limitations!
So what happened to me these past couple of weeks?
I have no idea, but I can talk about one of the balls that I dropped...I didn't register for my classes.  I KNEW the time was comingup...I KNEW what I wanted...and I just didn't do it.  I didn't forget.  I just didn't do it.
There are many other things that I didn't do these past weeks, and many balls that I dropped and I still haven't picked up.  I didn't go to appointments, I didn't schedule appointments, I didn't get my daughter's school stuff together in a timely manner, I didn't pay some bills (even though the money was there!).  The list goes on and on.  I only did SOME things, not ALL things.  Just the bare minimum.
I'm working on it.  This one in particular, even though it seems so frivolous, just makes me so upset with myself.  If I'm not a student, what am I?  
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In John Glenn's autobiography, he talked about some of the tests he went through when he was hoping to be an astronaut.  One thing the scientists made them do was sit in a room and write down on paper 100 sentences beginning with the words, "I am...".
What would you say?  I would say, "I am Michelle, I am a mother, a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a granddaughter, a niece...I am a Christian, a reader, a writer...I am a brunette, a Kentuckian...I am depressed, I am tired...I am a student...".
Take one or all away, and am I still me?  Is there a heirarchy of what is me?  Or are those just labels that we add on to ourselves?
I can't, and won't, wait to be comfortable again, and back to me, and have things make sense. 
And I swear that I am going to try very hard not to write any more depressing journal entries!