Friday Annoyances

Is this confusing? Hard to understand? Is the print too small? (OK, so yes, I would have made the font larger if I'd printed the sign, but it is still perfectly legible.)

I've picked THREE used K-Cups from the trash so far today. I just don't get it.

I also don't understand why the weekly rate at daycare is going up in a few weeks. Apparently there's an annual increase. How charming. But seriously, for the amount we pay, why can't they provide a more filling (and interesting) afternoon snack than Cheerios (or what are most certainly generic Os).

Happy Friday, here's your rate increase! Happy Friday, have fun picking through the trash because your self-absorbed co-workers can't be bothered to follow directions!

Woe is Me

When my husband came down with a cold last week, I was aggravated. Not at him but at the universe at large. Every time he gets sick I catch it. It is inevitable and unavoidable. And this was the 4th time since fall we'd been sick (Sept./Oct., Nov., Dec. and now Feb.). I usually get one cold each winter, so this seems extreme.

My cold symptoms started showing themselves last Saturday. Typical runny nose and sinus congestion. On Monday morning I went to work and was feeling better, thinking it must've been a super mild cold. Then by mid-afternoon I started to feel weird. My back hurt, I had a headache, and then as I drove home the stomach pain started.

I spent that evening buried under a goose down comforter on the couch, unable to get warm and in too much pain to even watch TV. I still managed to whisper some responses to Jeopardy from inside my cocoon. Thankfully I was not scheduled to work on Tuesday because that's when the stomach bug first reared its ugly head.

Five days of pain, discomfort, and general misery later this bug shows no signs that it plans to leave me alone. Desperation is setting in. Is this the new normal? What if it never stops? Oh. My. God.

This morning I had to bail on something I was looking forward to all week. My husband bought a used snowmobile a few days ago and made plans for us to join some of his friends on an all-day ride up to Lake Ontario. But now my new snow pants sit by the door and my new helmet is still in the bag. I'm huddled under my blanket on the couch while my husband rides our new sled without me on what was supposed to be our first outing.

Needless to say, I feel sad and left out. I'm missing all the fun because I'm tethered to the toilet. So yeah, woe is me.

Outside my Comfort Zone

The weekend was every bit as stressful as I expected it to be.

The "cottage" by the lake was little more than a shanty. Oh, it has potential, don't get me wrong. But its owners clearly lack ambition. The one bedroom was more of a loft/attic space that has been partially finished. It could easily be divided into three bedrooms with walls and doors.

Less easy to fix would be the crooked floors, walls, everything. Nothing was square. I kinda wanted to throw a handful of marbles on the floor just to see the many directions in which they could choose to roll. But I can get past unevenness. That isn't a deal breaker for me.

The smells were a bigger problem: musty, stale, and something else I couldn't put my finger on. One smell I had no trouble identifying was URINE. The first red flag was carpet in the bathroom (indoor-outdoor carpet, no less). As far as I'm concerned carpet has NO place in the bathroom. All it does is attempt to hide a variety of sins. In this case, I am guessing the wax ring was shot. And don't even get me started on the squishy toilet seat. Nasty to begin with, but when you add in a crack that releases moisture of an indeterminate nature onto your ass whenever you sit...

I could go on and on, but aside from the structure itself, the close quarters with other people was too much for me. I need a lot of space and me time. I start to shut down after too much social interaction. Then I need peace and quiet to replenish. The only alone time I had this weekend was when I went for walks. I couldn't even sit outside and read because the wind was cranking non-stop to the degree that it was uncomfortable to be in after only a few minutes. So I was stuck inside with everyone else and the constant, steady, and often very loud conversation.

I don't know if I've ever been so happy to pack up and leave somewhere. I'm sure the others did not find me to be the most pleasant person to be around, but I did my best under the circumstances. Maybe next time they can just go without me.

Forced Socializing

I am no longer the social butterfly I once was. I did a lot of partying in college and during my Florida years.  I loved going out to bars and house parties. These days... not so much.

I prefer to stay home or to go out to dinner with just my husband. I have no use for bars (they are usually too loud and almost always uncomfortable, whether I stand or perch on a bar stool). I hate being forced to make small talk.

Unfortunately for me, my husband is the most social person on the planet. He thrives in situations where he is surrounded by people, especially if they are all paying attention to him. I think he was a rock star in another life. He loves getting together with groups of friends. The more, the merrier.

This coming weekend will be a trial for me (no, optimism is NOT my forte). We are going to a one bedroom "camp" on a big lake to the north with two other couples. I would much rather stay home and read my books and go for my walks. Instead I will spend the weekend riddled with anxiety, wishing I was anywhere else but there.

We are doomed

I started a new job at the end of September.  It is a part-time, no benefits, fairly low paying job.  And yet, I am finding it quite stressful and anxiety producing.  Every day I am astonished at how rude, inconsiderate, and just plain nasty these kids are.  They lie, they cheat, and they do it looking you square in the eye.  The last time I worked with kids (about 15 years ago) they were no where near this miserable.  I want to shake the parents and holler at them, "teach your kids some manners and common decency!"

Every day I plaster a smile on my face and hope the kids are less evil than the day before.  So far I've been disappointed every day.  I find this a worrisome reflection of our society.

(Obviously there are a few good eggs, but the vast majority are extremely unpleasant.)

It may be time to start looking for yet another new job because I don't know if I can keep up the good cheer.

A la Carrie from Sex & the City

I hate parsley. It's not just that I find it annoying or mildly unpleasant. I HATE it. I hate that it is the obligatory garnish sprinkled on top of everything I order. Sometimes I try to pick it off if the pieces are big enough. But it can be darn difficult to remove from red sauces or an alfredo. Every time they set my dish in front of me, I curse (mostly to myself). I always remember after the food arrives that I meant to ask them to hold the parsley. Never have I remembered as I am ordering. It always sours the meal for me but never wholly ruins it.

However, last night when the waitress set my fettucini alfredo down on the table, I had a sinking feeling. Not only was it covered in finely minced parsley (making an attempt to remove it absolutely pointless), but there was also giant chunks of freshly ground pepper. Which I hate even more than parsley. When you order a mild dish like alfredo, you'd think it might be implied that things like pepper are not desirable.

Apparently I will need to not just ask for no parsley, I will need to ask for NOTHING placed atop my food for decoration or presentation. Vile. It certainly eliminated any enjoyment I had for my meal last night.

Vent-a-licious

My friend Melanie recently implied that I'd forgotten how to blog. And perhaps she's correct. I'm not feeling very creative. It seemed as though my blog had turned into a big, old vent. Complain, complain, complain. But then again, I started this blog as an extension of my spiral notebooks. And frankly, much of what I do in my notebooks is vent. It gets it off my chest and out of my mind, thus preventing some major dwelling. And me, I'm prone to dwelling. Besides, I'm quite sure there's no one left reading this little tiresome blog, so I might as well use it to my benefit.

I'm sure it will come as no surprise that I am still singing the same old tune. The "I HATE my job" tune. Because, to be honest, I hate every single thing about my job, except for the fact that I have my own office with a window and a door. Beyond that I hate everything I do, I hate "the company," and I hate my commute.

Another thing I hate is hand washing dishes. I bought a dishwasher so that I would never, ever have to hand wash dishes again. But I've found one time that I don't hate it, after finally getting home almost 11 hours after I left, after an excrutiating hour in the car, cursing at the drivers around me, with a throbbing, pounding headache from blasting the heat in an attempt to melt the giant blocks of ice from my windshield wipers. As I sit here typing on my laptop I keep realizing that my shoulders are clenched tightly up around my ears. Even after I force myself to relax them, they creep right back up.

I know some of you (I'm going to pretend I actually still have readers) are thinking to yourself, work isn't supposed to be fun, that's why it's called work. I understand that in theory and maybe I just don't have as strong a constitution as you all. Feel free to condescend all you want (to yourself or those around you), and I will continue to curse you out in the quietude of my little brain.

So I'm telling you this right now. I can't do this much longer. I will NOT be working at this job at this time next year. No matter what. So there. The end.

Some things I will never have

~ long, shapely legs
~ small, perky breasts
~ clear skin

I also will never be exceptionally brilliant like my sister, incredibly creative like my mom, or even powerful like my dad.

At some point I hope to come to terms with these things. It would help if I could find my niche or something that I excelled at. I would mind being average less if I felt I had something of value to offer the world, but most of the time I just feel like I'm taking up space.

Stop the eating!

Another side effect of perpetual boredom is weight gain. For lack of anything else to do, I snack ALL day long. For example, I had just polished off a pair of Reese's peanut butter cups courtesy of the evil vending machine, when a co-worker came into my office and poured a big handful of m&m's on my desk. Now this wouldn't perhaps be the worst thing in the world if it wasn't an every day occurrence (well, some version of the story anyway).

Also contributing to the weight gain is the fact that I'm in a relationship now. I always tend to eat more when I'm sharing meals with another person. I eat much less when I eat alone (two rice cakes for dinner, anyone?). Now there are actual meals, eating out, and homemade bread to contend with, not to mention the fact that I keep making cookies.

In the December-January crunch of our busy season at work there is no time for snacking. I was also single at that point, and got down to the thinnest I've been in decades. I even had to buy two new pairs of jeans (size 4!) because most of my others were just way too loose. Sadly enough, they were a short-lived distraction, and now it's back to the "fat jeans" for me.

And exercise? Who has the time or energy for that? Obviously something's gotta give; this is not a good pattern to follow.

Whine, Whine, Whine

I know that I should be grateful that I have a job at all given the economic state of affairs. And I am. I really am.

I even have really good benefits and a lot of time off. It's just that my job is really, really boring. And it makes me really, really grumpy. And frustrated. And miserable.

We spend most of our lives working (why is that anyway?), so it seems like we should be doing something we at least kind of enjoy. Why don't you do something about your situation, you ask? I did! I took out ridiculous amounts of student loans and got my master's degree. How could I have known the economy would tank? Now not only are they not hiring teachers, they are laying them off left and right.

Enough of this whine. It is time for some fruity wine instead.

Really, what happened to common courtesy?

Dear Neighbor,

If I put out some orange traffic cones, will that stop your daily guest from parking on my lawn?

Sincerely yours,
Assuming Your Mama Didn't Teach You Any Manners

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Dear Neighbor,

Couldn't you at least carry some plastic bags to give the appearance that you intend to pick up the dog poop?

Sincerely yours,
Next Time I'm Flinging the Sh!t Across the Street and Into Your Yard

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Dear Neighbor,

Must you give me the hairy eyeball every time we cross paths?

Sincerely yours,
Trust Me I Have No Desire to Speak With You Either

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**inspired by the wonderings of Jenny F. Scientist

And somehow the stress continues

Silly me, I thought it would end with the last final. But alas, now my boyfriend is piling on the pressure for me to move out to California, or at least to establish a time line. Stress.

I found out that my host teacher who'd promised to write me a letter of recommendation back in November never did. I sent her a groveling email to which she has yet to respond. Stress.

There are virtually no teaching jobs in my field with openings in either my state or CA. Stress.

Not that I could apply for them anyway without 3 letters of rec. Stress.

OK, even I'm sick of my whining. To tell you the truth, it is the first item that is currently the biggest source of stress for me. So much so that I have gotten to the point where I'm dreading his phone calls. That's no kind of fun.

In better news, I installed my new shepherd's hook and hanging basket of candy cane striped geranium after work tonight. The shepherd's hook leans something awful. I stuck it in the ground about 47 timed and each time it looked worse than the time before. I don't get it. I used to hate geraniums because of their smell (there was one in the window behind my chair at the kitchen table as a kid). My nose lost some of its sensitivity as I aged and my love of geraniums continues to develop. I also purchased two Martha Washington geraniums at the farmer's market, which coordinate nicely with the hanging basket. Gorgeous! (See, now don't we feel better after talking about flowers?)

Back to Reality

I'm back from California. I had a nice time. It's beautiful there. Flowers are in bloom. We went to several parks and the aquarium. We watched three movies and I read three books. We also watched three great basketball games at a sportsbar.

I've returned home to sunshine and temperatures that rival (or best?) those I enjoyed in California. Unfortunately I haven't been able to walk or do any much-needed yard work. I spent most of the afternoon taking care of my car. I discovered, much to my horror, that my car was brakeless when I retrieved it from the parking garage at the airport last night. Now it's at the garage to be fixed tomorrow, and I've got my dad's sporty version of the same vehicle. He might even ride his bike to work tomorrow it's so nice out.

There's no food in the house and lots of dirty laundry. So that's what I'll be doing for the rest of the day...

Here and Not Here

I don't cope well with stress. This is not new information (remember the eye twitch?). My sister could confirm that even overtime at a basketball game is just about more than I can handle right now.

After spending the last two days obsessively surfing the internet for a new hairstyle that will work with my baby-fine, super-straight, limp-ass hair, I decided a glass of wine was in order. As it is a school/work night I will only have the one, but maybe it will slow down the anxious worrywart that is occupying my brain.

Saturday I take two of my three teacher certification exams. On Monday I have a test in one of my two classes. The week after that I have a mid-term and a 10 minute oral presentation. Don't count on seeing too much of me for the foreseeable future, unless I have more than one glass of wine on Saturday night and start drunk commenting. If I do that, please cut me some slack.

The Return of the Eye Twitch

It started during my junior year of high school, or wait maybe it was my sophomore year. It doesn't really matter, but I can remember sitting in whichever science it was (chemistry or physics) as the skin beneath my left eye pulsed. Ever since then, it's been a pretty good indication of my stress levels. Twitching eye equals stress.

Less than two weeks into the semester and I'm feeling it. It's busy season at work too. The upcoming certification exams loom large. The weather and lack of physical activity keep me feeling low.

And then I found out someone has made fraudulent purchases with my credit card account.

Twitch, twitch.

Come May I Will be Happy Again

I am feeling a great amount of hatred towards winter right now. It just keeps coming and coming. Snow, wind, freezing rain, repeat. Every winter I question my decision to move back here from Florida. I really, really hate winter. I'm not trying to sound like a whiner; I'm just trying to convey the facts. I have to say, I hope I don't get stuck here suffering these winters for the rest of my life.

On a different subject, classes start next week. Hopefully, this will be my last semester. Ever. I will be ecstatic if I never have to take another class for the rest of my life. I got fingerprinted yesterday, but I still need to register for my certification exams. But it's my master's intensive exam that terrifies me. An all-day essay exam is my idea of Hell. What ever happened to multiple choice?

Is it May yet?

Bah Humbug

I am a very bad gift giver. I want to give gifts that people will like, want, and be happy with. It stresses me out. I don't do a good job paying attention to little things people say all year long to be able to put them to good use at the holidays. Part of the problem may be that I could spend ten minutes listing thousands of things that I would be happy to receive, whereas other people struggle to identify one item.

Needless to say, I have not completed my gift shopping for this year. My biggest hang-up is with what to buy for my boyfriend (as a side note, I hate that term). He lives in California, in an apartment I've never seen. He has enough disposable income that he generally buys whatever he needs or wants. Clearly, whatever I get him at this point wouldn't arrive by Christmas anyway. I've been agonizing over this for days, which has resulted in absolute inability to take action on the matter.

I guess I'll go burn off some of my obsessive energies by shoveling. Maybe that will take my mind off my own lack of creativity.

Something is rotten in the state of Denmark

In case you've been wondering if I'm still around, why yes, I am. I am having a bit of a rough patch though. Up until yesterday I'd thought my biggest challenge was surviving this student teaching experience. I was just thinking I could see a hint of light at the end of the tunnel (three weeks to go and counting). And then my hateful supervisor once again did her best to imply I'm thoroughly incompetent. Not once has she offered a single helpful suggestion. She has, however, misinterpreted every single thing I say, twisting my words and using them against me (and putting it in my permanent file, no less). I'm beginning to fear that she may actually prevent me from passing the student teaching portion of my program. If I get to the end and find I've done this all for nothing, I can't even begin to imagine how I'll deal with the situation.

I'm not saying I'm the best student teacher. I am saying that every day, I do my best. I deserve to pass. I don't deserve a teacher-of-the-year award, but I deserve to pass.

On a somewhat related note, a second classmate of mine dropped out of student teaching. Now we're down to four people. Why am I the only person that finds this troublesome?

An Apple A Day

I came down with a cold Sunday night. It never got BAD, but it hasn't gone away either. I am sniffly (in the nose) and scratchy (in the throat). It's been almost a week and I'm over it. GO AWAY, you stupid cold. Mowing the lawn last night did not help, since that always makes me more congested. I think I am not doing a good enough job of eating well, especially since I've cut out the meats again. Apparently my diet of carbs and cheese does not cure all ails. Unfortunately laziness tends to trump creativity when it comes to incorporating new things into my diet.

I'm hoping to go apple picking tomorrow, so maybe that will help keep the doctor away.

At least tomorrow is Friday.

• My mind is too full (and my body is too tired) to manage more than bullets.
• Student teaching is going as well as can be expected. It's not funny anymore. It's just annoying. These kids won't even complete a word search.
  
• I find it bothersome to also have class at the same time. It's too much.
• Sometimes I wish I'd decided to pursue my degree at another institution of higher learning.
• Last night was one of those nights. I don't think making an entire cohort of second year master's students feel like stupid, worthless idiots is the best route to take. Me thinks if every one of us fails to meet your expectations, you may be partly to blame.
  
• I finally got around to picking up after Ike. I filled three garbage cans with downed branches. The rest will have to wait.
• It may frost tonight.
  
• I may close the bedroom window for the first time since spring.
• It's amazing how many pairs of really uncomfortable shoes I own. I rotate them so a different part of my feet hurt each day. I'm beginning to think comfortable shoes do not exist outside of sneakers or flip flops.
• Don't worry, I still want to be a teacher. I just may have to consume a great deal of chocolate.