every last second (except this one)

I find myself smack-dab kerplunk in the middle of an insanely packed first aid course. They take six weeks of material and jimmy it down into two. I wake up at six and study for an hour. After that it's forty-five minutes of chores, a half hour to get ready, and a half hour travel time. After nine and a half hours of class time I drive home, eat dinner, attend to a few minor whatsimahootsits, do three hours of homework and then go to sleep. My few free moments I spend hoping, praying and worrying that I'll pass. Those are the facts of my life, and I have nothing wise or witty to say about it.