I'm Floored

Sick to death of my stupid floors. I don't know why I find them so tedious. I can do just about anything else. I can scrape paint, clean dusty bookcases, organize drawers and cabinets, hang shelves, unpack boxes, whatever. But I can't make myself sit in my bedroom for three short hours and sand the floors!!

Called my brother-in-law and offered to pay him to finish the job this weekend. If he accepts I'll start painting as soon as he leaves. I want this finished. I want to move back into my bedroom so I can get the study back into shape. I want to sleep in the bedroom, close to the bathroom, without damn cats on my bed.

I get paid tomorrow so I can buy a mattress and box spring this weekend, and a quilt of some kind. Maybe I can drive to urban Outfitters and look at that green-striped thing I keep considering online.

My bed is actually sitting at the store, but they haven't called me yet. Which is good because I don't have any place to put it. Yet.

Dreams or Nightmares?

I managed to get about two hours of sleep, but I woke up with a horrible headache. I've never had one this bad in my life -- I think it actually qualifies as a migraine. I've had several of these over the semester. And the worst part is I'm convinced I'm giving them to myself. I couldn't seem to find a comfortable place to rest my jaw on the pillow, and it was actually getting sore from me holding it in place, and then my neck started itching and acting up, and next thing I know my body is trying to press through the mattress into the floor. Every muscle in me seemed tense.

So I cancelled class for the morning and went back to bed. Had a dream where I was pregnant, and driving down a traffic-filled road in a go cart. Then later I had another one where I kept meeting pregnant women, including a lady who was part of a happy couple who sold mannequins for people to dress and place in their yards as lawn ornaments.

I don't buy into dream symbolisim, but this is pretty obvious. I have a secret I want to share, something I want to get off my chest. And I'm afraid to do it. I'm afraid I'll be run over, afraid I'll be labeled as a fake, afraid I'll be hurt.

Or maybe it just means I shouldn't have eaten that bacon-and-egg sandwich at 4:00 AM, and my stomach was letting me know.

My headache is still with me. I haven't eaten in almost twelve hours. I feel horrible.

I'm probably going to cancel my evening classes, too. I have ActionScript and Flash tonight, and I think talking loud enough to lecture will hurt my head. Hell, the little keyboard clicks are hurting my head.

Financially Irrational

I did it again, this time without even realizing it. I wasn't happy with myself so I went on a spree. At least this time I bought something I've been agonizing over for a year, something I really do need. Maybe I should save up all my major purchases for days like today!

After I ordered the bed I started looking at bedspreads since I don't have any queen-sized linens. I found a few that might work, but then I fell in love with an expensive Company Store quilt. I paid more for the quilt than for the bed.



After buying the quilt I decided I didn't like the bed after all, so I cancelled my order and bought a different bed:



It's 4:25 AM now, and I'm supposed to 'wake up' in two hours. I actually went to bed at 2:00 AM, but after tossing and turning for an hour and a half I figured I might as well get up. I'm going to lay back down in a few minutes and see if I can at least get a nap in.

Wednesday is always the most difficult day of the week, too.

Totally Disgusted But Recovering

Disgusted with my house. I've decided one reason I can't get anything done is because (go ahead and laugh) the Feng Shui in my study is bad. I have awful lighting, a complete lack of organized storage, a desk littered with hot rollers, books, and fast-food containers, and (worst of all) a mattress in the middle of the room. The makeup mirror on the desk isn't helping, either. I keep looking at it to see if I look as pitiful as I feel.

I used all this disgust I'm feeling to my advantage. I ordered a bed. I can't find one I really like, and I won't -- after all, I've been looking for a year now -- so I went ahead and ordered a good-enough bed. It's on sale at Penny's. I don't love it but I can live with it.



Now I just need a room to put the bed in. I have until the 26th to get the room ready, so I need to work like a dog this weekend. Decided I hate the paint in my bedroom, so I need to re-paint over the next week. Plus I still want to paint the floor. I'm going with a color combination that makes my mom shudder -- orange and green. It'll be great.

At least I won't have time to be miserable. Hell, I'll be lucky if I have time for coffee.

Questions and Answers

How is it that I can answer any question anyone asks -- even personal ones -- but be so bad at ASKING questions? I always feel like I'm poking my nose where it doesn't belong. Worse yet, I always seem to choose the wrong wording, or the worst possible timing, or the worst possible place.

It just doesn't make sense. And this STUPID trait is messing up my life. Must learn the art of asking. (sigh) Maybe there's a book on this?

Issues

One of my students made me feel incredibly pathetic and incredibly lucky at the same time today. He's in a very rough spot right now, and we talked for a few minutes. I'm not sure what (if anything) I can do for him, but I'm going to do my best to let him know I care about his well-being. I need to talk to some other instructors about this and get some feedback. Today is the Teaching & Learning committee meeting, maybe I can take a few minutes. If I can talk about this anywhere it will be with that group.

This brought home (again) how pathetic I'm being. I need to do more for my students, and spend less time sitting in my house pouting over a guy who probably hasn't even noticed I'm a girl.

I started this semester with a bang, and I'm going to try to finish with a bang, too. My students deserve (and need) everything I can possibly give them.

Take THAT, Esquire!

Listening to the radio this week I caught a short spot on a list of things Esquire feels men shouldn't do once they reach the age of thirty-five. It was a really useful list, full of things like "Don't wear a T-Shirt with a picture of a rhino and text reading 'I'm horny!'"

Since I'm 35 this year the list was funny -- It seems I've dated all those faux pas at one time or another -- but at the same time it was a little sad. Is that what we're left with at 35? Just making lists of what we CAN'T do instead of lists of things we'll keep doing, or (better) lists of things we have yet to do?

I'll admit to an unhealthy love of lists. I love lists so much that I have trouble completing anything on the list -- after all, why spoil its perfectly-organized beauty by removing things? The goal is just to see how many items you can add to the list. More items = more points. It's all about imagination.

Here is my list of things I intend to do for the rest of my life.

• Sing, even though I can't and shouldn't. Trust me.


• Spin until dizzy


• Wear short skirts and low-cut shirts. Not necessarily at the same time. Wear horribly unfashionable gypsy skirts. Never ever ever wear hose or slips, except for job interviews or super-conservative events.


• Wear preteen makeup, like aqua mascara and lipstick with glitter.


• Pretend. I have a very juvenile fantasy life. When I'm alone I've been known to pretend I'm a foreign spy living in deep cover, or that I'm in a reality TV series, or that I'm a tragically beautiful and thin widow who has suddenly discovered her husband isn't dead at all.


• Read tarot cards, horoscopes, and palms, just to see if they confirm what I know to be true. Wish on stars. Knock on wood.


• Blush.


• Wish for the gift of faith. What would it be like to turn my life over to a higher power? I guess I need to wish for a more trusting nature, too.


• Wear necklaces in my hair as a tiara and pretend I'm getting ready for either a Cinderella-type ball or a coronation or a movie where I play royalty.


• Eat icing out of the can, eat cookie dough, eat cake batter, etc


• Eat jawbreakers and pixie sticks and anything that will turn my tongue a new color


• Stick out my tongue. Especially to jerks in traffic.


• Delight in flavored lip glosses. I've outgrown bubblegum and coca-cola -- now I'm messing with lime, and with peach, and with almond butter.


• Use not-so-grownup scented bath products. Forget lavender or vanilla or all that dull stuff. How about my current favorites, a margarita-scented body scrub, or a watermelon scrub, or The Stuff Cupid Dips His Arrows In Because Sometimes Fate Needs An Assist, which is a really wicked-looking blood-red color that smells heavenly.


• Dress up on Halloween


• Laugh


• Dye Easter eggs


• Shop at garage sales, estate sales, and thrift shops


• Write


• Be generally content with what I have


• Make lists

I also want to make a list of thing I want to do, except right now I should be working, and the only for-sure thing I can think to put on it is to fall in love. Guess I'm not as good a list-maker as I thought.

Factoring X

Just visited an Algebra class as part of a program called 'Teaching Squares' we're initiating at school. The idea is that four participants (a square) visit the classrooms of the the other participants, and offer feedback on the experience. Anne Wessely of St Louis Community College (Meramec Campus) developed the idea, and gave our school permission to use it.

Initially I was OK with the idea, right up until K. dropped her textbook off in my office. I opened it, and literally broke out into a sweat. Equations, polynomials, what the hell is a quotient anyway? I should know all this -- I failed Algebra three times in high school.

This morning I took about an hour to read through the chapters, work the examples, and go over the syllabus. After that I headed to class.

At first I was clueless, but surprisingly after a while all those failed math lectures came back. I even managed to solve a problem using a different method than the rest of the class.

K. is wonderful -- I love the way she handled an openly exasperated student. Instead of focusing right in on the student and derailing class she gave everyone a problem to work on, and then assisted the student. I also liked how she handled her "Mr. Muscles" -- the one male student who talks without reason and tries to dominate a class just so he can have his daily dose of attention. She didn't handle him at all. After a while, once everyone else was engrossed in their work, he shut up. I'll have to remember that one for my 8:00 AM class.

Thursday I visit a Speech class, and next week a Humanities. I think those are a little more my speed, but I'm very happy I chose to work with math, and work past some of my personal demons.

Killing Time . . .

I'm waiting (and waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiting) for a student to show up for some individual assistance with a Flash project. I don't like waiting, and I feel like I've spent about half the semester doing just that. I've been waiting for the right time, or for the right people to take action, or for something (anything, damn it!) to happen.

Strange trend, on reflection. I'm usually the person who initiates action. And back in January I was kicking serious ass. I had dozens of projects going, and was still clearing off my to-do list every day. (OK, at least the top five 'hot' items were getting finished.) But in mid-February I slooooooowed dooooown, and became this lump of boredooooooooooooooooooooom.

'Inactive' just doesn't fit in with my self-image. Yesterday I didn't have much to do, and I was so miserable I ate pizza. I still feel guilty about that.

Today I have a fully-loaded schedule, and I'm happier. (Not ecstatic, mind you, but much better than yesterday.) I won't be able to stop until about 6:00 PM, and even then I won't. I refuse to. I have better things to do than feel sorry for myself and eat Ben & Jerry's.

Gods, where IS this student?? I want to get this over with so I can go to Curves. I went nine times last month, which is pretty good seeing how we had Spring Break and Easter Holiday screwing with everything. I am going to loose all this weight, and then (late next year, hopefully) I'm going to find a man who wants to be with me as much as I want to be with him. I'm tired of taking the initiative all the damn time. And I want a few freaking compliments. How hard is it to say "Wow, you look great today!"

Damn, I'm not going to have time to go to Curves. Our stupid VOE meeting starts at 1:30, and it's 11:27 now. If I can get out of here by 12:00 I could make it. I might not have time for a shower afterwards (ewww! NOT!) but I could make it.

Don't want to go to this meeting. The District has mandated all new full-time employees MUST attend these stupid workshops, and they are dull DULL DULL. They might be OK for people who have not been with District that long, or people who lack an educational background, but for me -- eight years in District and an MS in Ed Technology -- they're the biggest waste of time in the entire freaking month.

Today is even worse than usual. Today we're talking about our IAP -- Individual Action Plans -- and how to handle our yearly reviews. My review was TWO WEEKS ago. Gee, good planning, VOE Team! I have the best rating possible, so there isn't really any room for improvement. (Personally, of course, there is always room; there just isn't any more room in the stupid system.) And it's not like we get anything for being exemplary. A 'satisfactory' rating is all I need to keep my job. Since raises are across-the-board (not based on individual merit) there isn't any motivation for improvement.

I'd rather be in my office, doing something personally improving or personally meaningful, like working on my C++ programs, or working on a lesson for the ActionScript class. This meeting bites.

OK, it's 11:45. I guess the student isn't coming. Outta here!