Possessed ceilings and other paint questions?

I decided to paint the bedroom while on spring break this year.  I've painted the interior of my house and I'm not some newbie that doesn't have a clue.  However, after three days of dealing with my ceiling and the awful streaking, I've come to accept Kathie's explanation: "it's possessed."  WTH ceiling?  It's not like you are abused.  There's no smoking, no water stains, no kids with crayons, no holes, no real problem other than needing a fresh coat of paint.  We are also getting a new bed, which prompted the whole paint the bedroom fiasco. 

I have put TWO GALLONS of paint on a ceiling for a 12 foot by 15 foot room.  TWO GALLONS.  It's not a heavily textured ceiling, normal drywall that has been primed and painted already.  Yes, I know it is a dry time of year and I expected to use a bit more paint that normal, but TWO GALLONS??!  Today I'm going to the local home despot to buy a different brand of paint with the primer in for the ceiling.  If this doesn't work, I am going to call it an artistic choice and be done with it.  I don't know what else to do with it.

I'm scared to start the walls.  I have the no prep/no prime, primer already in the paint for the walls, but at this point, I'm ready to just live with the way they are.  Heck, we've had them this way for some time now, so why mess with success?  Heck, maybe that will be an artistic choice, too.

I had really hoped that spring break would prove a satisfying experience of getting something done without the hassle of what my life has become.  School is just unbearably frustrating and turning into such a time suckage that my home life is also starting to suffer.  I am irritated all the time and am having a hard time just relaxing.  I have lost the "I want to be in school and learn things" feeling that even at my worst in Spanish class I never lost.  I still, at the bottom of my heart, knew I wanted to be there.  But this?  Deep, deep breath.  I'm so close to being done.  I just have to find something to focus on, hunker down, and hope I  make it through this with my family, friends, and dignity intact. 

I had thought that a successful home project would restore me to a happier level.  At least I hope the new mattress will because my back is killing me from the old one.  There are eight weeks left in this semester.  Eight weeks.  Eight weeks.  Deep breath, and I can get through this.  I am tired of having to say that, though.  It seems like I've been saying that a lot.  And, on top of all of this, is that is could be worse.  Deep breath.  Deep breath.