Death and Income Taxes

So, about mortality - a topic which may have come up before:

How do you handle coming to grips with ultimate oblivion? Is it something you're cool with? See, I continue to have trouble figuring out the whole thing, despite the fact that at this point I have pretty much the whole entire 1980s on my iPhone in iTunes form (thanks, Obama).

My job description now requires a bachelor's degree in "business, communications, engineering, or a related field," whatever that means. It does not, according (initially) to our Human Resources Division, mean a degree from the University of Texas in Rhetoric and Writing. I had to write a justification they'd accept to explain that "Rhetoric and Writing" counts as communications. The fact that I succeeded, I feel rather strongly, ought to be good for at least a few hours' credit. It is not.

I am grandfathered in (despite my abundantly evident youth and femininity) to my job, even though I don't possess the required bachelor's degree. But I can't advance any further in my career. As a cyclist, I know a lot about getting doored, but apparently it's also possible to get ceilinged. Who knew?

The flood of memories associated with going back to school has come as a bit of a surprise. Hello, the dreams about forgetting it was finals day and what the hell is my locker combination again?? Hello, the dreams of forgetting the class schedule until midterms... when I suddenly show up dressed in what I thought was a bath towel, but it turns out was just a washcloth??? Why are all my teeth falling out????

There is much more to write, if I ever get around to collecting my thoughts (which I will most likely have to as I am taking an Advanced Writing course at UT this fall) about the human experience, dealing with concepts of mortality, and how selfies with cats often involve unfortunate red-wine teeth stains. But I'm not getting a grade for this post so bite me.