Why hello, Insomnia. We meet again. I had wondered where you were hiding, you little bastard. Figures you show up at finals time again. I see you have on your black cape and are twirling your handlebar mustache while you contemplate tying me to the rails. You relish it while you can, because I always manage to escape. Eventually.
Speaking of finals, I took two yesterday, and have one more due next week that the prof said we could email to him instead of showing up for class. How awesome is that? Well, it’s pretty awesome, in case you were wondering. Nevermind that it’s a 10-12 page paper followed up with a 25-30 page reflection journal on the entire class.
When I checked my grades earlier, to my horror I saw a class that I dropped waaaaay back in January was still on my transcript of enrolled classes, and now I have to run around like a chicken with my head off and find the right people to help me fix this before it tanks my entire GPA. No stress or anything at all, during finals and before spring break. Soon the college will be a ghost town. Crap.
Today is going to be insane. University first thing after the boys roll off to school, dragging Abby with. Then an appointment downtown. Some of my friends in my ward have talked me into doing a make-up class here at my house today. Because I’m crazy, that’s why. Finals? Bah. Make-up! Yeah, I know. But it will also be fun, and I need some fun. Then the one-an-only anual fundraiser my kids’ charter school has is tonight. It’s a big deal, and we’re supposed to dress like Happy Days characters. I may post pictures of what Bean imagines to be a James Dean outfit. Hint: it involves cowboy boots. Now, if I could only find my poodle skirt…
I miss Mo. I need some Mo time. That is all.
I have a new favorite lip-balm. You couldn’t live without knowing that. It kicks the crap out of the previous strawberry favorite. This is Smith’s Minted Rose in the vintage tin. It reminds me of science camp in sixth grade, when I got my first boyfriend and my first kiss all in one day. I opened it and was bowled over my the wash of memories of misty loamy redwoods and dew-covered fields and a tow-headed boy I couldn’t believe had actually picked me. It probably won’t do that for you though. But its still an awesome lip balm.
Abby spilled fruit punch all over my white duvet. There is a bright red rorschach flower in the middle of my bed now. I didn’t get mad, but I wonder if its worth the bleach, or if I should just consider it an abstract O’Keefe and call it good.
My training is a little off on my running. I did something to my left hamstring, and boy howdy, did it hurt. There was a popping noise, followed by the inability to move, then the walking like a 98 year old woman. I’m just now trying to get myself stretched out and moving again, but you runners weren’t kidding when you said stretching was the key.
There are leathery tulip leaves joining the brave little Crocus’ in my yard. Snow has turned to incessant rain, and the winds have picked up and bluster all the time. Oh March, how I do love you!
Tuesday was both my mom’s and X’s birthday. My mom celebrated by walking across the span of the Golden Gate Bridge, which I haven’t done in years, and was quite envious of her. For X, his mom is having a birthday lunch for him Saturday at a local taco joint. It’s been requested that I bring the kids, and I have acquiesced. I don’t have to- its not in the parenting plan, and I could say no. But I’m not. I’m taking them. Sometimes this bleeding heart of mine is a real nuisance.
New favorite drugstore make-up find: L’Oreal Voluminous Mascara in Carbon Black. It’s as good as DiorShow, and only 1/3 the price. If you get it on sale, even less, and it’s super. Go forth and batt those lashes!
Bean’s made a good friend, but that friend is moving to Utah next month, so we’re getting as much time as we can before they fly the coop. They’re having a sleepover this weekend (and yes, I know how some folks feel about sleepovers) and they are so freaking excited. I am too, truth be told- I love it when Bean finds a friend. (Yes, Ava is still around- he played with her yesterday.)
My goal for this weekend? To ascend and conquer Laundry Mountain. It’s a beast, and I may need oxygen, but I shall prevail. The problem is, it always manages to heave itself up again. Do you suppose it’s magic? Confounding.
Never buy the fresh salmon at Costco then let the kids put the groceries away and forget about it because you cannot see where they shoved it in the back bottom of the fridge. That’s all.
I’ve gone on a couple of dates from Match.com. It’s entirely strange to be dating. That country song is right, by the way- going on a date with a single mom is like a job-interview. It’s also become apparent, despite my trying to broaden my dating pool, that dating a non-LDS man is complicated and it’s easy to forget the chasm that lies between a practicing Mormon and the general population. it’s not unbridgeable- I know many successful interfaith marriages- but as far as dating goes… it’s tough.
So what’s up with you?
10 thoughts on “3:41 a.m. Brain Dump”
I feel your pain.
My psych prof. gave me a completely unreasonable grade and refuses to discuss it. Now on to the final while trying to keep the bile down. Trying to remind myself that blowing off the class hurts me, not him.
Elementary school Principle called last night in a tizzy about a supposed suicide threat by my foster son. Ugh, heartbreaking, he’s 9. It was a false alarm, thank God.
The sun is coming out so we’re going to the zoo later. I might need chocolate and a coke today.
Two midterms next week: neurology and Methods & App. Neuro prof is suffering from the start of Alzheimers or Parkinsons. He has continually taught wrong principles. When we’re tested and write the correct answers down, he marks them wrong. Then we have to go through proving them in order to get credit. Frustrating process.
I’m also waiting for grad school letters. Vanderbilt sent me a charming rejection letter. It was a long shot so I wasn’t too sad. Then Florida State sent me a curt rejection email. I was devastated. I exceeded their criteria and felt sure to get in. Now I am waiting on my own school. What if they reject me (last year they only accepted two from the university, the rest were from out of state. If I can’t get into grad school, I can’t be an SLP. I know God has a very specific plan for me, much better than I could ever orchestrate on my own. But I am panicked right now. Heading to the temple tomorrow for some much needed peace and comfort.
I’m living in England for three years. Every time I go to a grocery store, I stand staring at the massive wall of cheese, and I think about you every single time. Then I get all nervous and walk away empty-handed.
What’s up with me is nothing so dramatic. No school about which to stress (both a pro and a con). No dating issues. Only fairly mild (comparatively) child-raising problems. However, I still find more than enough plates to try to juggle, and drop my share of them. Sometimes I find the daily grind is as exhausting as the major trials have been.
I should follow SHC’s example and go to the temple…
I vote for abstract O’Keefe.
L’Oreal’s Voluminous Mascara is my go-to. Occasionally I get charmed by something else and give it a try, become bitterly disappointed, and run back to the loving arms of Voluminous. It’s the best.
My last semester before I quit college I had a class-drop problem. I talked to my counselor and discovered I was still registered for two classes I believed whole heartedly that I’d dropped. I also changed my name that semester and wonder if that may have screwed things up. So the week before finals week I got to run around getting signatures to drop these two classes, submitted the forms, was denied, and have two Incomplete/Fails on my transcript. Well, it’s been almost 8 years since then so if I were to go back now they’d probably be dropped but still, it was not a great way to enter finals week.
I love March, too! It feels like spring might actually come!
Hmmm. Try the “liberal” non-LDS religions: Episcopalian or Unitarian/Universalist. Seriously. Best of luck–I’d counsel staying single and just achieving an awesome career since you already have a lovely family (but that’s my liberal Episcopal upbringing speaking).
Amazing the way you zip off perfectly formed copy like it’s flowing out of your fingers on its own or something. You must be great fun at Mo-cktail parties. (aka “snackers”)
Here’s my unsolicited but informed take on the dating outside-the-faith thing. I’m in a marriage with a nomo guy for almost 30 years that’s patched up with a lot of duct tape and found wire and tar-paper and what not. If I had it all to do over again, I’d probably opt out of the added layers of complications, sacrifices, uncertainty and just plain distance that doesn’t help the two of you. You are going to have complications enough in your life. I say don’t seek out any more. Now, if it comes to you unbidden, that’s a little different.
I’m starting PT on Friday for my own hamstring injury, although “injury” might be too strong–the doc thinks its tendonitis. We’ll see what the PT says. Hamstring injuries are no joke, so if you heard a popping noise and can’t walk—well, just be careful, is all I’m saying. And if you want to avoid further injuries, you HAVE to cross-train. I can’t emphasize that enough. Working up to a half marathon is serious stuff (as you probably know by now). Training is enough of a beast —you don’t need to add to the pain by injuring yourself.
Now I’m off to find me some voluminous mascara….
P.S. Don’t stretch cold. Warm up, walk a little, something. Stretching cold can cause injury, too. Best to do a good walking warm-up and stretch after the walk or after your run. Then throw in some yoga on days when you don’t run.
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