Sometimes, I just want more out of life.
But, it often seems that when I figure this out, I have nothing more to give in order to make that happen.
I'm so tired...okay, not just because it's 11pm. I would love some time to reassess what my life is, who I am, and where I'm going. I feel very much like I'm on autopilot, which is not something I relish. My self-reflections are limited and lame these days. Actually, the only thing I personally reflect upon are my health issues as I try to get that all sorted out before the end of the year and a new deductible.
Even though there is just a handful of weeks left of school...truthfully, sometimes I wonder if I'll make it to the end. It's not just the projects, the papers, the research, the brain-tired. It is so much more than that.
And I am so, so tired.
14 November 2011
22 October 2011
Celebrating the Good
It only took us 3 weeks, but we did end up celebrating our anniversary for an entire day! On a good week, too, my double-Fall break for both of my universities. No class on Tuesday, no work on Friday.
Pure loveliness.
I began to see a light at the end of this semester as I hit midterms: I'm feeling in a good place with my Scottish lit class, finally in the groove with assignments and I have the one presentation/extra research bit out of the way. On Wednesday, I turned in my working bibliography for my thesis project; 17 pages of double-spaced, citations and small blurbs about each one's usefulness to my project. Some were useful, many weren't. But it was an accomplishment. I've just now received my "next steps" for that massive project, but decided this weekend was definitely not the time to look into that.
I slept in two days in a row, getting an unprecedented 9 hours of sleep each night. Our anniversary celebration day was Friday and set to include a movie, shopping, and dinner out in Ft. Wayne. When we tried to make reservations in advance for Cork 'N Cleaver, we found our options to be either 5p or 9p. Quite a span of time, typically during which I get hungry and eat. But neither option sounded great. Since it's quite a drive, we opted to forgo the film (nothing that we really wanted to see anyway) and take the early dinner.
It was such a relaxing day. Our shopping experience was quite slow and easy, each of us getting somethings we needed and some that were simply fun. We got some ideas for Christmas, had some coffee, and tried to stall our hunger (we didn't eat lunch so we could eat dinner so early).
By 4:30p, our feet were dead (we are not good shoppers) and our blood sugar was so low we were both pretty much incapable of making any more decisions. Except about food, of course.
I've never been out to eat for a special event of my own, and so when our server asked why we were dining out, I answered "to celebrate our anniversary." Because of this declaration, we discovered, to our delight, that our dinner was finished with a complimentary mud pie -- a towering piece of coffee ice cream with fudge icing, a thin chocolate cookie base, and whipped cream everywhere. Though we were stuffed from our appetizer of mushroom caps and cheese and the entrees of a 16 oz. rib eye (you guess whose that was) and a Parmesan-encrusted tilapia filet, we ate our dessert heartily. We'd even just decided not to buy dessert, when she brought the dessert plate out, but how could you say no when it's free?
The whole day was fantastic; I never once thought about school work. And we arrived home early enough for me to get another 9 hours of blissful sleep.
After another fairly relaxed day today, we ended with dinner at a friends' and one round of Ticket to Ride.
I'm so grateful for the break. I needed it desperately, and think taking a week to sit back and breathe may have just bought me another 7 of intense work and studying.
To top it off, Quincy has been the most loving and cuddly little (or giant) cat for the past few days. It's enough to melt your heart (probably only if you like cats to begin with).
Bring it on, November. I see you hiding around the corner, and I'll take you on. I'm ready!
Pure loveliness.
I began to see a light at the end of this semester as I hit midterms: I'm feeling in a good place with my Scottish lit class, finally in the groove with assignments and I have the one presentation/extra research bit out of the way. On Wednesday, I turned in my working bibliography for my thesis project; 17 pages of double-spaced, citations and small blurbs about each one's usefulness to my project. Some were useful, many weren't. But it was an accomplishment. I've just now received my "next steps" for that massive project, but decided this weekend was definitely not the time to look into that.
I slept in two days in a row, getting an unprecedented 9 hours of sleep each night. Our anniversary celebration day was Friday and set to include a movie, shopping, and dinner out in Ft. Wayne. When we tried to make reservations in advance for Cork 'N Cleaver, we found our options to be either 5p or 9p. Quite a span of time, typically during which I get hungry and eat. But neither option sounded great. Since it's quite a drive, we opted to forgo the film (nothing that we really wanted to see anyway) and take the early dinner.
It was such a relaxing day. Our shopping experience was quite slow and easy, each of us getting somethings we needed and some that were simply fun. We got some ideas for Christmas, had some coffee, and tried to stall our hunger (we didn't eat lunch so we could eat dinner so early).
By 4:30p, our feet were dead (we are not good shoppers) and our blood sugar was so low we were both pretty much incapable of making any more decisions. Except about food, of course.
I've never been out to eat for a special event of my own, and so when our server asked why we were dining out, I answered "to celebrate our anniversary." Because of this declaration, we discovered, to our delight, that our dinner was finished with a complimentary mud pie -- a towering piece of coffee ice cream with fudge icing, a thin chocolate cookie base, and whipped cream everywhere. Though we were stuffed from our appetizer of mushroom caps and cheese and the entrees of a 16 oz. rib eye (you guess whose that was) and a Parmesan-encrusted tilapia filet, we ate our dessert heartily. We'd even just decided not to buy dessert, when she brought the dessert plate out, but how could you say no when it's free?
The whole day was fantastic; I never once thought about school work. And we arrived home early enough for me to get another 9 hours of blissful sleep.
After another fairly relaxed day today, we ended with dinner at a friends' and one round of Ticket to Ride.
I'm so grateful for the break. I needed it desperately, and think taking a week to sit back and breathe may have just bought me another 7 of intense work and studying.
To top it off, Quincy has been the most loving and cuddly little (or giant) cat for the past few days. It's enough to melt your heart (probably only if you like cats to begin with).
Bring it on, November. I see you hiding around the corner, and I'll take you on. I'm ready!
10 September 2011
Last Minute Mary
I don't put things off. I'm a worker-aheader, a planny-McPlannerson, an extremely-prepared kind of person. But the first 2 weeks of Fall semester this year has proved me incapable of juggling all the things I have going on. There is so much pressure at work to get the new systems up and running, and there are a plethora of meetings that I really wish I didn't need/have to attend. On the other side, I have unbelievable pressure from classwork and the added bonus of planning/researching my thesis this semester. On top of that, I, personally, have had 2 routine Dr.'s appointments, and Kyle had eye surgery yesterday. He has one more check up that will require me to drive him and miss work, and then he should be home-free for seeing well again.
Over Labor Day weekend, I had 400 pages of a dry, slow-reading novel to digest, plus 50+ pages of criticism/background, plus two essay questions due by 7am Monday morning (which was my birthday). We had 2 family reunions with 50+ people that weekend. Too much. All around, it was all just too much for me.
I thought I'd be able to get my mind back into a routine following Labor Day, but that proved impossible, and now it's Saturday and I finally feel like I can sit down and breathe for the first time in two weeks.
Last night was a due date for my general plan for writing this gigantor paper, the culmination of my grad career. Library school taught me how to research with the best of them. This English program is teaching me how to be a literary critic. And my final "test" will be a massive paper, a book even, on some literary topic of my choice. I've struggled to come up with something interesting, and was about ready to fall back on my favorite topic of female character moral development in 19th c. British lit., when I read Steph's birthday gift to me from last year, The Book Thief. It changed my perspective and made me appreciate modern fiction again.
By yesterday, I was to turn in to my adviser a chapter outline of what I want to write on for this massive undertaking. I didn't really know how in depth I should go for this "Prospectus," but with the minimal time I had available to think about it in the 1-week time frame I was given, I thought it might end up only phrases, not even sentences, in length. I stayed late at work, after missing half the day for Kyle's surgery, and when I got home we wolfed down some food and did the mountain of dishes that had piled up since Monday evening. Then, I locked myself in the back room and began ruminating on what I wanted to say about The Book Thief and how I could make those ideas into 20 page chapters while still sounding intelligent.
I needed to Google ideas like "death as narrator," which produced results of mostly fantastical, not-the-right-kind of books. I needed to brainstorm on physical paper the 5 different directions I could go and choose the best one (or the most interesting one to me). I needed to revisit my Critical Approaches to Literature Handbook so that I could see what criticisms might help me illuminate this text and any other works I chose to examine. As you can see, I had many decisions to make.
In a few hours' time, I think I got it. But I'm going to wait to hear back from my adviser before giving any specifics, in case she doesn't like it and I must change directions.
It turned out just like I thought it would...I needed two minutes to rub together (or 180 minutes, truthfully) so my brain could focus on just one thing. It felt good.
Over Labor Day weekend, I had 400 pages of a dry, slow-reading novel to digest, plus 50+ pages of criticism/background, plus two essay questions due by 7am Monday morning (which was my birthday). We had 2 family reunions with 50+ people that weekend. Too much. All around, it was all just too much for me.
I thought I'd be able to get my mind back into a routine following Labor Day, but that proved impossible, and now it's Saturday and I finally feel like I can sit down and breathe for the first time in two weeks.
Last night was a due date for my general plan for writing this gigantor paper, the culmination of my grad career. Library school taught me how to research with the best of them. This English program is teaching me how to be a literary critic. And my final "test" will be a massive paper, a book even, on some literary topic of my choice. I've struggled to come up with something interesting, and was about ready to fall back on my favorite topic of female character moral development in 19th c. British lit., when I read Steph's birthday gift to me from last year, The Book Thief. It changed my perspective and made me appreciate modern fiction again.
By yesterday, I was to turn in to my adviser a chapter outline of what I want to write on for this massive undertaking. I didn't really know how in depth I should go for this "Prospectus," but with the minimal time I had available to think about it in the 1-week time frame I was given, I thought it might end up only phrases, not even sentences, in length. I stayed late at work, after missing half the day for Kyle's surgery, and when I got home we wolfed down some food and did the mountain of dishes that had piled up since Monday evening. Then, I locked myself in the back room and began ruminating on what I wanted to say about The Book Thief and how I could make those ideas into 20 page chapters while still sounding intelligent.
I needed to Google ideas like "death as narrator," which produced results of mostly fantastical, not-the-right-kind of books. I needed to brainstorm on physical paper the 5 different directions I could go and choose the best one (or the most interesting one to me). I needed to revisit my Critical Approaches to Literature Handbook so that I could see what criticisms might help me illuminate this text and any other works I chose to examine. As you can see, I had many decisions to make.
In a few hours' time, I think I got it. But I'm going to wait to hear back from my adviser before giving any specifics, in case she doesn't like it and I must change directions.
It turned out just like I thought it would...I needed two minutes to rub together (or 180 minutes, truthfully) so my brain could focus on just one thing. It felt good.
18 August 2011
Signs of Aging
On any typical day, I'm pretty with it. I generally have a calendar in my brain filled in with all the day's, week's, and often month's events and appointments. I make lists, it's true, but mostly because I just like making lists, not entirely because I must have them.
In the last few weeks, I've noticed my brain power slipping. I knew the stress of finishing a short semester and beginning a new semester, combined with several new projects and a few presentations that must be finished prior to our Aug. 30th student start date, was getting to me. And then I got sick. Really sick, like laying on the couch whenever I wasn't at work sick. Not able to work out or sit up (sometimes) or do adequate research for my term paper. But I did not know just how much my cognitive ability was affected until this week.
Wednesday morning, I was finishing up washing my hair, spreading some conditioner on it, when a realization hit me. For weeks, I'd had this little inkling that something was amiss with my brand new conditioner, the one I'd gone out one evening for the sole reason of picking up. It didn't feel right on my hair or in my hands as I got ready to apply it. In truth, it hadn't felt right for weeks, I realized, but I hadn't had the energy to think about why.
And the why, folks, is pretty important and indicative of the sad spectacle of my life right now.
It's shampoo.
That's what the bottle says. The bottle that I picked up in the store and examined very closely because I was so tired when I bought it. I remember doing that. I remember saying -- whew, good thing I double-checked that container. I know right now I could have picked up the wrong thing. But I did anyway because my mind isn't processing at an adequate speed.
Upon retrospect, it became clear that I've been double shampooing and leaving conditioner off of my hair every other day for almost three weeks. No wonder it's been feeling so strange and has been really hard to comb through.
Because it was so embarrassing, I had to tell someone. Ashley laughed at me, as did Kyle. Seriously, you thought it was conditioner? Yeah, they aren't even close to the same consistency.
Because I didn't feel nauseated today, not even once, I feel like I'm at a turning point in my mental health. I'm hoping, anyway. Because I have a ton of work to accomplish before the end of the month. Wish me luck!
In the last few weeks, I've noticed my brain power slipping. I knew the stress of finishing a short semester and beginning a new semester, combined with several new projects and a few presentations that must be finished prior to our Aug. 30th student start date, was getting to me. And then I got sick. Really sick, like laying on the couch whenever I wasn't at work sick. Not able to work out or sit up (sometimes) or do adequate research for my term paper. But I did not know just how much my cognitive ability was affected until this week.
Wednesday morning, I was finishing up washing my hair, spreading some conditioner on it, when a realization hit me. For weeks, I'd had this little inkling that something was amiss with my brand new conditioner, the one I'd gone out one evening for the sole reason of picking up. It didn't feel right on my hair or in my hands as I got ready to apply it. In truth, it hadn't felt right for weeks, I realized, but I hadn't had the energy to think about why.
And the why, folks, is pretty important and indicative of the sad spectacle of my life right now.
It's shampoo.
That's what the bottle says. The bottle that I picked up in the store and examined very closely because I was so tired when I bought it. I remember doing that. I remember saying -- whew, good thing I double-checked that container. I know right now I could have picked up the wrong thing. But I did anyway because my mind isn't processing at an adequate speed.
Upon retrospect, it became clear that I've been double shampooing and leaving conditioner off of my hair every other day for almost three weeks. No wonder it's been feeling so strange and has been really hard to comb through.
Because it was so embarrassing, I had to tell someone. Ashley laughed at me, as did Kyle. Seriously, you thought it was conditioner? Yeah, they aren't even close to the same consistency.
Because I didn't feel nauseated today, not even once, I feel like I'm at a turning point in my mental health. I'm hoping, anyway. Because I have a ton of work to accomplish before the end of the month. Wish me luck!
12 August 2011
Oh, the sounds
I've spent quite a bit of time in our computer room this month already hammering away at this Science Fiction class. It's been interesting, but I'm ready to say goodbye. The stress of summer classes is something I cannot wait to put behind me forever.
A few weeks ago, I realized there was a super annoying sound in the wall next to the chair where I sit to read in this room. Quincy actually heard it too, one day, and tried to alternately climb the bookshelves and dive under and behind them to get to the noise. Honestly, what it first sounded like to me was a series of tiny peckings or scratchings. At first it was just every now and then for a short period of time. Now, it's constant. I pulled Kyle in a few nights ago to listen to it and he said, "Definitely mice," which I had thought, too. The sound could definitely be claws.
He wrapped on the wall a few times and his mouth fell open as he concentrated on listening. "What?" I asked. "It might be bees." I was not expecting that answer, and I laughed. Bees? Really?
Kyle took to the Internet to find out and spent at least an hour on Wikipedia learning more about carpenter bees, mostly, but a plethora of other pests with wings, as well. He had something like 10 tabs open in the browser when I walked in (yeah, I'd left the room. Bees aren't that interesting to me.). Just like me, this man loves information. Sometimes I feel like we rarely love information about the same things, but when research is necessary to figure something out, Kyle's the man. He's got the Internet by the throat! Can find anything you need.
Anyway, after this discussion and my reluctance to believe it, I noticed a bee leaving the area beside our back window this morning. I went outside in the cool morning air and stood about 10 feet away, staring at the exact location of that sound. Located on the brick in that precise locale is our water meter, and while I stood there about a dozen bees flew in and out from behind that box. Gotcha!
Now, what to do? I suppose we tell the landlord and see if they care if bees are living in our walls. Ah, the life of a renter!
A few weeks ago, I realized there was a super annoying sound in the wall next to the chair where I sit to read in this room. Quincy actually heard it too, one day, and tried to alternately climb the bookshelves and dive under and behind them to get to the noise. Honestly, what it first sounded like to me was a series of tiny peckings or scratchings. At first it was just every now and then for a short period of time. Now, it's constant. I pulled Kyle in a few nights ago to listen to it and he said, "Definitely mice," which I had thought, too. The sound could definitely be claws.
He wrapped on the wall a few times and his mouth fell open as he concentrated on listening. "What?" I asked. "It might be bees." I was not expecting that answer, and I laughed. Bees? Really?
Kyle took to the Internet to find out and spent at least an hour on Wikipedia learning more about carpenter bees, mostly, but a plethora of other pests with wings, as well. He had something like 10 tabs open in the browser when I walked in (yeah, I'd left the room. Bees aren't that interesting to me.). Just like me, this man loves information. Sometimes I feel like we rarely love information about the same things, but when research is necessary to figure something out, Kyle's the man. He's got the Internet by the throat! Can find anything you need.
Anyway, after this discussion and my reluctance to believe it, I noticed a bee leaving the area beside our back window this morning. I went outside in the cool morning air and stood about 10 feet away, staring at the exact location of that sound. Located on the brick in that precise locale is our water meter, and while I stood there about a dozen bees flew in and out from behind that box. Gotcha!
Now, what to do? I suppose we tell the landlord and see if they care if bees are living in our walls. Ah, the life of a renter!
08 August 2011
Monday's Accomplishment
As if Mondays aren't hard enough to face...today I had a monumental chore: Finish Red Mars.
My neck is so sore, as is my rear, from sitting and reading all day long.
Will this semester never END?
I know it will, but I have a paper to finish and one other small assignment that I don't care about. It'll get done.
Today, I had 275 pages to read in order to finish this book so that I could move on to research for the paper (that's the only "relief" I get these days). I started reading at 9a, took a break from 11 to 2p for some lunch, some cleaning, some exercising. I've been reading since 2...it's not 8 and I only have 40 more pages. My body screams to lie down, but I know I must go on.
I've taken to doing 10 jumping jacks when I get up for more water or to go to the bathroom. I don't always remember, but when I do, I feel better, blood flows to the outer extremities that have been in the same position for an hour. I also walk around the house, just to move, check my email, just to look at something different.
By the time I go to sleep, I will have finished Red Mars. It's a really good book. Recommended. Incredibly detailed, and I wouldn't recommend trying to read it in 2 1/2 days. It is 575 pages long and dense. The material is all science--every branch you can imagine--as well as psychology. The author had to have such a breadth of knowledge that I'm incredibly impressed. It's a complex novel that entwines human interactions and relationships with incredible scientific exploration in all kinds of fields (biology, ecology, geology, physics, astronomy...and more) with politics, religion, and economics. I can't grasp it all, to be honest, but it's a fascinating read (probably more so if I wasn't under this time crunch).
Last night I dreamed of Mars. So, obviously, it's very imaginative.
Okay, that was my 10 minute break. Actually, I think I need some food in order to concentrate on those last, surely significant, 40 pages.
I'll see you on the other side of this looming paper -- due next Wednesday at midnight.
Adios for now.
My neck is so sore, as is my rear, from sitting and reading all day long.
Will this semester never END?
I know it will, but I have a paper to finish and one other small assignment that I don't care about. It'll get done.
Today, I had 275 pages to read in order to finish this book so that I could move on to research for the paper (that's the only "relief" I get these days). I started reading at 9a, took a break from 11 to 2p for some lunch, some cleaning, some exercising. I've been reading since 2...it's not 8 and I only have 40 more pages. My body screams to lie down, but I know I must go on.
I've taken to doing 10 jumping jacks when I get up for more water or to go to the bathroom. I don't always remember, but when I do, I feel better, blood flows to the outer extremities that have been in the same position for an hour. I also walk around the house, just to move, check my email, just to look at something different.
By the time I go to sleep, I will have finished Red Mars. It's a really good book. Recommended. Incredibly detailed, and I wouldn't recommend trying to read it in 2 1/2 days. It is 575 pages long and dense. The material is all science--every branch you can imagine--as well as psychology. The author had to have such a breadth of knowledge that I'm incredibly impressed. It's a complex novel that entwines human interactions and relationships with incredible scientific exploration in all kinds of fields (biology, ecology, geology, physics, astronomy...and more) with politics, religion, and economics. I can't grasp it all, to be honest, but it's a fascinating read (probably more so if I wasn't under this time crunch).
Last night I dreamed of Mars. So, obviously, it's very imaginative.
Okay, that was my 10 minute break. Actually, I think I need some food in order to concentrate on those last, surely significant, 40 pages.
I'll see you on the other side of this looming paper -- due next Wednesday at midnight.
Adios for now.
03 August 2011
Quincy's new passion
You probably won't believe this, because even to me this sounds ridiculous. But...
Quincy Loves Shoes.
It's true, he does. And we have evidence.
The only sad part is that we're missing a picture from the innumerable times he climbs into our Chacos. He loves those sandals. Can't pass up a moment of sticking his paws through the straps if they are sitting off the side somewhere. I might go as far to say that he's obsessed. He's taken to treating them as "Home Base". Before he took to the shoes, Home Base was the kitchen rug. Anytime he got scolded (which is often), or needed comfort (think vacuuming), he would take refuge at Home Base. Even when playing, after skittering around the kitchen after his beloved plastic ring, he would pick it up in his mouth and carry it back to Home Base.
Little did we know that Home Base was about to become mobile. Wherever there is a shoe is now a Home Base. It's hysterical.
Another of Quincy's recent obsessions is the sink. Well, any sink. I caught him here in the kitchen sink, going fishing for something in the disposal.
His favorite, however, is the bathroom sink. Whenever we're getting ready for bed, he'll climb in and curl up (he takes up the ENTIRE sink) and prevent us from using it for our own purposes. Like a kid, trying to convince the parents to stay up or something. Kyle got a video of that on his phone, so I'll try to post that soon.
The final thing I want to show is his new favorite playhouse. Now, we really haven't bought him much: a few grooming brushes is all besides food and litter. Kyle is always wanting to get Quincy something, but really, what could he need? I found a little house at Meijer that sported two openings (one on the side, one on the end), a dangling feathery toy, and a hammock on top. I kept my eye on it, but never got around to buying it because it was $20. Seemed excessive. Plus, Kyle was never with me to see if it was a good idea, so I waited. Eventually, it dropped in price to $12, and Kyle was at the store with me and jumped on the chance to buy Quincy something fun.
Well, of course he loves it. Although not sure about the hammock at first, after just two days he figured out he could lay in it and it's been a staple in his every day circuit of finding places to sleep in the living room.
Alas, Blogger picture loader has been total crap for a week, so I'm posting this without the final picture. Can't...take...it...any...more!
Quincy Loves Shoes.
It's true, he does. And we have evidence.
The only sad part is that we're missing a picture from the innumerable times he climbs into our Chacos. He loves those sandals. Can't pass up a moment of sticking his paws through the straps if they are sitting off the side somewhere. I might go as far to say that he's obsessed. He's taken to treating them as "Home Base". Before he took to the shoes, Home Base was the kitchen rug. Anytime he got scolded (which is often), or needed comfort (think vacuuming), he would take refuge at Home Base. Even when playing, after skittering around the kitchen after his beloved plastic ring, he would pick it up in his mouth and carry it back to Home Base.
Little did we know that Home Base was about to become mobile. Wherever there is a shoe is now a Home Base. It's hysterical.
 |
| The thong of this sandal is actually between his toes. He loves it. |
 |
| A visitor's shoes. He doesn't discriminate. |
 |
| His favorite of my friends: Ashley's sandals. Obviously, he's super excited. |
 |
| The double-footed Home Base. |
His favorite, however, is the bathroom sink. Whenever we're getting ready for bed, he'll climb in and curl up (he takes up the ENTIRE sink) and prevent us from using it for our own purposes. Like a kid, trying to convince the parents to stay up or something. Kyle got a video of that on his phone, so I'll try to post that soon.
 |
| Don't know why the pic is sideways. Sorry. |
Well, of course he loves it. Although not sure about the hammock at first, after just two days he figured out he could lay in it and it's been a staple in his every day circuit of finding places to sleep in the living room.
Alas, Blogger picture loader has been total crap for a week, so I'm posting this without the final picture. Can't...take...it...any...more!
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