A Drop Too Much

Grad school has taken over my life.
I don't simply mean that it's what I devote the majority of my time to; I mean that it has literally started to consume every minute of my entire life.
When I'm not in class or studying, I am either thinking about what I've just finished studying, or I'm thinking about how I should be studying instead of doing whatever else I'm doing (i.e. talking on the phone, working, driving, eating, taking an occasional break from the books, practicing violin, working out, sleeping, etc.).
I'm quickly turning into one of those people who can't have a conversation without directing it back to something about school.
Seriously, I talk about it constantly.
It annoys me, so I'm fairly certain it's a little much for others, as well.
Yeah, right. It drives everyone crazy, I know.
I'm like one of those people who just had a baby or is re-modeling an entire house. Every single thing that happens can be related back to that topic.
"What did you say? It started to rain? That reminds me of something I read the other day about rain causing children to have increased hyperactivity..."
"Oh, you've just gotten back from Europe? Vienna is in Europe. Adler, father of Adlerian therapy, was born in Vienna..."
It's a constant cycle in my mind.
If you've unfortunately been subjected to one of these informative and oh-so-exciting exchanges with me lately, just know that whatever I said out loud was probably only a fraction of the information that scrolled across the ticker constantly running in my brain.
I really am trying to keep it in the proper arena.
Last night, while sitting in the parking lot of Subway, I had my first official grad school meltdown.
I'm talking Jesse Spano-caffeine-pill-no-time-never-any-time-never-going-to-get-into-Stanford meltdown.
It was intense.
We're talking that kind of crying where you can't quite seem to get your breath, your body feels like it's overheating, you can't seem to produce tears fast enough and you are physically wracked with the very effort of it all.
Though it was emotionally draining and visibly uncomfortable for the sandwich artists who were openly gawking at me in horror through the window, it was much-needed, and I feel so much better today.
Perhaps I should go and check on the workers at Subway, though; they had to deal with a sight few people should ever have to withstand...