In Loving Memory

It's the first anniversary of the loss of my best friend, Sam. I still miss him.

Goings On

That famous final end-of-the-semester push has begun. I've finally caught up with math and think that I've got a good grasp on the material, with the notable exception of that stupid linear programming section; I never fully understood that, but suspect I'll live. We're covering an introduction to statistics now, which is helpful as I'll be taking the Statistics course in the Fall.

I've got two papers to write this week, one for Sociology and one for Politics of Social Welfare. The Soc. one is on either racism or gender inequality, while the P/SW paper is concerned with the plight of the low-wage earners in America, based upon the book The Betrayal of Work by Beth Shulman, supplemented by our text, class discussions and any other outside sources we wish to use. This is the bigger paper, but I have until next Monday to get it done. The Soc. paper is due on Friday, but is shorter and easier to accomplish.

My psych class is currently covering substance abuse, something I know a little about. I'm trying to keep my mouth shut as we discuss this; the class isn't about me, and though I can offer a comment or opinion occasionally, I want to make that more rare than not. There are different perspectives to listen to and learn from, and I need to be open to them even if I disagree.

I'm helping out at a silent auction to benefit something or other for the Spanish students, and to raise money for literacy programs in the Dominican Republic, at least I think that's where it is. You can see how much attention I've been paying to what's going on outside my endeavors to catch up scholastically. I've also volunteered to help out with the graduation ceremony, during which we (PTK) will be collecting food for the shelters and children's books for preschools, underfunded libraries and local literacy programs. When I brought this to my employers' attention, they donated some books, which I thought was pretty cool of them. PTK has also had drop boxes located in some of the buildings on campus, collecting old textbooks to be packaged and sent to schools in Africa that can't afford textbooks for their students. One PTK member actually caught a student rifling through one of the boxes and helping herself to some! When confronted, she claimed that she needed it to cut up for one of her class projects, and she was totally unrepentant for stealing it, refusing to put it back as she walked away!

Some people just give people a bad name.

Off to be less irate and more productive in the workforce, etc.

Hunting?

I had to pick a book on how to hunt squirrels today, and I found myself wondering:

How sportsmanlike is it, really, to hunt for something that is just as happy to run under the tires of your car?

Might as well fish in your aquarium while you're at it.

IBW Checks In

It's such a lovely feeling to kick back, relax and know that I only have to put in about 4.5 hours tomorrow; other than that, I've got nothing scheduled, nothing I have to do.

I owe cyber-apologies to that sweet woman who coughs on me every week: I don't have a cold. I have allergies, and they're making me pretty miserable. My eyes won't stop watering and feel like they're swelling shut, and my throat is scratchy. It probably wouldn't have been so bad today, except that I forgot to take a Claritin tablet this morning. Ah well, these things happen, and it will get better. There are worse things that could happen, and I'd rather have this than a cold.

I've registered for my Fall classes, and it's going to be... challenging. I'll be taking Human Biology (with Lab), Statistics, Child and Adolescent Psych, and General Psych II. This last one is funny, I know. It occurred to me that I had never taken Psych II, only Psych I. As a Psych major, this would have been a "major" problem. I know you're groaning now. I'll swat myself for you.

*swat*

Of course, for all you know I might have swatted you. It's not as if you can tell.

At any rate, Psych II is going to be review for me at this point, which will be nice given the difficulty of the other classes, especially Bio and Statistics. Oh, and my brother and I will be together again! He's in my Bio class. Or I'm in his. Whichever.

Soon it will be time to transfer- either Spring or Fall '09- and I'm considering my options. I should know in a couple of weeks whether or not I was awarded any scholarships for this Fall semester. I've had a college try to recruit me, offering me $2,000 scholarship with up to another $4,000. But it's in Virginia and my husband is in CT. That's a little too far to commute, and my husband kind of likes having me around.

I think that pretty much catches y'all up on what's been going on with me, at least the big stuff. I'm off to see how your week has been.

Swinging from a Tree Diagram*

There is a very lovely, sweet woman who sits directly behind me in one of my classes, and I'm coming to dislike the poor thing.

A little over a month ago she caught the flu and was out for a couple of weeks. Since returning, she has trouble getting up the stairs to the third floor where our class meets. By the time she comes in and sits down, she's wheezing, struggling to catch her breath.

And then the coughing begins.

She hacks and hacks and hacks and hacks. Loudly. So that I can't hear everything the professor and other students are saying. I could live with this. I mean, how important could those discussions really be anyway, right? Right. No, the problem is that she is sitting right behind me, coughing at me from about a foot away. I try to casually lean forward when she starts in, but over time I find myself lounging back again.

The upshot is, I think I've caught a cold, and I blame her.

I feel badly for her, I really do. And when I say she's a sweet and lovely woman, I mean that sincerely. I think that's the only reason I haven't killed her yet. She's just that nice. I guess I'm not.

On a more positive note... remember that assignment I turned in a couple of weeks ago that I was so ashamed of, after which I decided that I needed to quit the gas station because I was just too tired to cope anymore? I finally got my grade on that a couple of days ago: a perfect 20 out of 20. It was a first draft, not even proofread. I reread it after I got my grade to determine whether or not I had just been too hard on myself. No. It didn't even have a conclusion; it just ended. I had just decided that the prof is on crack when someone pointed something out to me: perhaps the rest of my classmates did so badly that mine looked good in comparison. As if to confirm this, the prof emailed everyone about how disappointed he was in our performance on that assignment. He listed things that he had been looking for, and which people had failed to include. I had included them. I've decided that he graded my paper towards the end, so that mine really did look good in comparison.

So maybe instead of being a crackhead, he's just a weekend toker.

Also, I survived that 4-chapter test this morning. I'm sure I got the sex questions right (and if I didn't, would I admit it?) and feel pretty confident about the Mood and Personality Disorders, with a caveat. The other chapter covered schizophrenia in its many forms, but there are also very similar personality disorders related to schizophrenia, and all of them start with "schizo," though they have different meanings, symptoms and treatments. I believe I kept them straight, but I'll know better on Thursday.

And, per Leah, perhaps some of you have lyric suggestions for IBW's theme song? *G*

* A "tree diagram" is a mathematical term for the diagram used to determine all possible outcomes when working on probability and odds. Sadly, I'm about to take up my pencil and calculator in order to figure out, via this method, how much money I'm out every time I buy a raffle ticket, etc.

Returning to Our Regularly Scheduled Programming

I have not been suffering with that deep question: To Blog or Not to Blog. I just haven't had time.

This is about to change.

I cannot assume the mantle of Interactive Blogging Woman (shouldn't I have a nifty superhero outfit to go with that title?) until tomorrow; I have to finish reading 4 chapters in Abnormal Psychology for a test in the morning, and I also have to finish my math homework involving probabilities and odds. I can say with a fair degree of accuracy (putting probability and odds into action), however, that Interactive Blogging Woman (IBW for short) will be making regular appearances as of tomorrow. By regular appearances I mean that I will not only blog regularly again, but that I will also be a better friend by tuning into your lives once more.

My last day at the gas station was Friday night, and the weightless feeling that has accompanied it is hard to describe. I've almost finished weeding my flower beds for the first (of many) time, giving myself a mild sunburn, also the first of many I'm sure. Have I ever mentioned that my skin has always confused itself with sea creatures? It has two colors: lobster red or fish-belly white. Anyway, I have done little of productive value over the past couple of days, and am so much more relaxed and happy as a result. Yeah yeah, I should have done more catching up on schoolwork, but am exercising my right not to work anywhere today- not without a hint of guilt, mind- and am devoting the time to previously stated activities instead.

I feel like William Wallace at the end of Braveheart as I cry out: Freedom!

Er, hopefully without that pesky disembowelment and death part.

In Search of Self?

A book order recently picked:

How to Cheat at Everything

and

How to Spot a Liar

I've heard of finding oneself, but based on the latter selection, it seems this person is still looking.

*G*

When in Rome, do as the Greeks do

I was inducted into the honor society last night. One by one we approached the table at the front of the stage, blew out our candles, signed the registry and turned to the PTK officer next to us who handed us a flower and smiled as she said "This rose is a symbol of our intellectual friendship."

It was a beautiful ceremony, full of inspirational speeches and traditions. I can't help but feel it was wrong of me, therefore, to be thinking:

Yes, yes, we're all intellectual friends. Now could we please wrap this up? I have to pee!

I Did It

I wrote up a letter of resignation, giving my two weeks notice, and brought it to work with me today. I didn't realize that my boss still wasn't back from her vacation in Florida yet, so I gave the letter to her daughter to give to her. She'll be back tomorrow night. Close enough. I've made the 18th my last day. Yippee!

I let the ladies I work with know what I had done, and why. They all understood, though they're going to miss me. One in particular said that it sucks that I'm leaving; I'm the only person who cleans the place when she closes, and gets it set up for the opener. The other people who close are Pat or her daughter, and they don't do anything. There's a lot to do when you open, and you have to be there by 5:15 AM. You don't want to have to come in and change the garbages, sweep, mop and vacuum the floors on top of everything else that needs to be done before the place opens. I make sure the pots and filters are good to go so that the opener only has to hit the start switch to get the coffee going. This is crucial, because those men and women on their way to work need that caffeine fix, and they want it NOW. And I take care of the dishes, garbage and floors at night so the person who opens can focus on the chores that go with opening, without having to worry about the things that should have been done by the closer as well.

So the woman who usually opens is especially sad that I'm leaving!

But it must be said that, having taken this step, I feel so much lighter! I'm actually smiling from the heart today, which makes a nice change.

Need to Make a Decision

I'm so drained.

After last night's cringe-worthy assignment, I began an overdue meltdown, which culminated in a tearful breakdown at my AA meeting this afternoon. I've been holding it together on the outside for so long, and nobody had a clue just how stressed I've been. Some people have noticed that I'm a little more tired or tense. But today, I just couldn't "act as if" anymore. I raised my hand and just lost it, sobbing over nothing, really, except how colossally inadequate I've been feeling, how tired I am. I know in my heart what I have to do, have known for a while, but fear has been holding me back. Fear of financial insecurity, and fear of other people being upset with me. People, including you, have all told me the same thing:

I need to give notice at the gas station.

And you know what? You're all right.

I've made a commitment to work more hours once school is out for the summer, and I'm feeling guilty about not keeping this commitment; backing out now goes against my upbringing. I know it's going to upset Pat. But my grades are slipping, my attitude sucks and I can't take it anymore. It's not healthy. If I don't keep my grades up, I won't be able to afford college. Working at the gas station will wind up costing me more emotionally and financially than it can possibly benefit my wallet. I can work more hours at the bookstore to make up for it, and at the bookstore I can make my own hours to suit whatever is going on at school.

I'm going to give 2 weeks' notice when I go in on Monday, I guess, and I'm scared. But I'm tired, too, and the thought of not having to kill myself to maintain my current schedule is helping to offset my nerves.

I've been so stressed out that I've been having some awful dreams. A couple of nights ago I dreamt that I was being attacked by a cobra. Thanks to Steve Irwin, I knew that I should try to get hold of it behind its head so that it couldn't strike. But I didn't have one of those handy hooked sticks for wrangling snakes; I had spaghetti tongs. Not quite the same thing. As I'm trying to figure out how to make it work, the cobra made its move to strike. I blocked with the tongs, but neither of us quite won. I had it by the snout, the tongs part in its mouth, part on the top of its head. I didn't have a good hold, and it was fighting. I felt a fang scrape against my finger, and I wasn't sure whether or not the poison had made it into my system. I called out behind me for someone to call the ambulance in case, though why there was somebody there who wasn't helping me in the first place... I don't know. I woke up while the snake and I were still at an impasse.

Then, last night, I dreamt that a friend in the program, K, was getting married, and that I had agreed to give an elderly couple from AA a ride to her wedding. On the day, I drove up to the church without them, and K asked me where they were. That's when I remembered I was supposed to have given them a ride. I raced off to pick them up, only to realize that they had recently moved and that I wasn't quite sure where they lived. I didn't have my cell phone with me, and couldn't call anyone for directions. I had a general idea, and just had to drive around until I found it. By the time I arrived to pick them up, the wedding ceremony was over. And this couple- who in real, waking life, are the sweetest people I know- they wouldn't speak to me. They wouldn't even look at me! I drove them to the reception, where I wasn't welcome to join everyone. Nobody wanted to see me, because I screwed up.

Waking up from that dream, I knew what an unhealthy mess I'm becoming. It then sank in that it's been a very long time since I really laughed or felt good. It's been too long, and I didn't even realize it.

So now I'm headachey and drained, and edgy, But I also think that if I can stay strong and follow through, I'll get better. By quitting that job, I'm doing the best, healthiest thing I can do for myself.

I Can't Even Think of a Title

I had to write 3 essays this evening to be turned in by midnight. Yes, I had a week to write them, in theory. In reality, I've been behind all week with all of my classes (I had a presentation to give, registration to plan and the scholarship application with accompanying essay in addition to everything else), and am so exhausted that I keep falling asleep when I try to work on something. I'm exhausted, and have a bad attitude, mainly directed at my job at the gas station. But at this point, my mood is just foul all around.

I wrote the 3 essays, but ran out of time so that the last two especially weren't great. In fact, I can't help but feel that I just turned in crap. Sloppy, poorly-thought-out, unorganized crap that had the potential to be something more if only I'd been able to stay awake long enough this week to work on it. I'm squirming over the product that I turned in, and I don't like the feeling. I want so much to do better in this class, to do the work I know I can do. Every week I swear I'll do better, and every week I screw up. I'm so angry with myself.

Better luck next time? I somehow doubt it.

I Could Budget Time, If I Had Some

For those of you who wrote (or didn't write, but were thinking) that you didn't understand a word I wrote in my last post, that's ok. I didn't either, which was essentially the problem. I still don't, but I'm working on it.

I'm also trying to read a chapter for Sociology (he assigned 2 this week and I'm being quizzed on them tomorrow), and I have also just completed a scholarship application and its accompanying essay. I should also be trying to read a chapter for Ab. Psych, but I just don't have time. I'm meeting with my advisor tomorrow morning and had to spend some time tonight researching requirements and trying to figure out classes and schedules for the Fall semester.

Stress is a way of life. It's not a good one, but it's a way of life.

Math is Starting to Suck Again

I hate linear programming.

I hate determining the constraints. I hate graphing them. I hate finding the feasible region and vertices. I'm not overly fond of finding the objective function, though I can.

I can honestly say that I don't care about the cost to make indoor and outdoor paint on machine 1 and machine 2, factoring in the separate profit margins for indoor v. outdoor paints.

As far as I'm concerned, this is why one hires a business manager and, quite frankly, I'm not it.

I hate linear programming.