Hallelujah it's Friday! Another trip to the massage school tonight to finish info on the loan application.  One of the joys of having a marriage that the federal government does NOT recognize comes whenever tax information is required.  We file our state return jointly but must perjure ourselves on the federal and call ourselves "single" and file separately.  Consequently, when I was filling out the federal student loan application and needed to report income I needed to combine figures from BOTH our returns because we're married (and that didn't occur to me when I visited them on Wednesday). While I'm on the subject, as a matter of information to my friends here, my town has to charge me more for health insurance than my heterosexual peers to cover my husbear, once again because of the stoo-pid hoops they have to jump through, thanks to federal non-recognition of our marriage. Rant, rant. But the application is made, the deposit has been placed, I've given them two photos for picture ID, I ordered a table. It's still sinking in - - -  I ordered a table. Hubby has an Oakworks table he uses for his Reiki practice, it's nice, but it's 33" wide, which is fine when you're 6'1" - I'm only 5'8".  I suppose I could have used it to start with, it IS adjustable... but I wanted to get something that is going to fit my practice, or at least what I think it is going to be.  Which I only have vague notions about right now anyway. I'm babbling. I ordered a table - this is going to happen. You realize this goal has been on my page ever since I joined DS.  NO progress other than daydreams for months on end. I ordered a table.  What I'm nervous about is overloading my schedule.  I'm good at a lot of things, but I'm not good at a lot of things all at once.  Essentially I'll have no weekend time (that will have to be when I do homework and set my classroom).  I'm not sure how I'm going to work in work outs.  This week I started the private cello lessons - on Tuesday and Thursday my teaching day now continues until 7:00 pm.  Wednesday and Saurday are the massage school days.  I think I'm going to have to become the master of the half-hour workout.  This week I didn't get to the gym at all until tonight.  I hope that doesn't become the norm. And one more thing while I've got the oh-my-various-ungods-what-have-I-got-myself-into jitters:  the two conversations I've had with school faculty have had components of what one of George's friends calls "ooga-booga."  I have a low tolerance for "ooga-booga."  Spiritual beliefs that from my POV look superstitious, new age-y, or have the potential to be held in the same fundamentalist of-course-it's-real faith that I left behind in Christianity. Sigh.  I'll get over it, but it might be a long 17 months if I have to spend a lot of time evading that mindset.  Beefeater on Vegetarian Island. Moment of paranoia passed, I'll be fine.  It's a good and thorough program, the school has a fantastic reputation.  I'll be well-prepared to pass certification exams and licensing, they'll teach me how to run an independent business.  I'll learn proper body mechanics so I should be able to sustain a career for as long as I stay healthy.  I ordered a table. It's going to happen.