Mid Semester:The New Norm

It is mid semester. A new normal has set in: Exhaustion.  I have survived a two week cold, a trip to the ER with another seizure and have settled into a pattern of five hours of sleep per night. Survival is the name of the game. 

Somehow the children and I are finding food, since most days I don’t think about what to cook (a relief to the nearby fire department). This can be attributed to our proximity to nearby restaurants.  When I announce they have to forage for dinner on their own, they instinctively say “Can we get food from Mikes?” I can justify this extra expense of takeout food by comparing the rising cost of groceries and energy / time expended washing dishes at midnight.  I am convinced there is a cost benefit analysis somewhere that would exemplify my need for takeout.

My collie has decided that homework time is playtime.  She gets toys from her basket and tosses them on the laptop.  This could also explain the huge number of typos I find while editing.  She ignores the piles of papers and books on her place on the couch, jumping on top regardless of my protest and commands to stay down.  She has be trained so well she now recognizes when it is time for a study break.  Good dog, now if I could just train her to write proposals.

 Midnight dish washing sessions are becoming a form of stress release.  I remember when I was working on my first degree.  The house was never cleaner than when I had a project or test.   It should also be said that I was in my late twenties at the time and had an endless bounty of energy.  I don’t have that bounty now in my mid-fifties.  Time, children, job and endless other influences have robbed me of that bounty.

I have been working on another multiple piece project again.  The last one was seven parts. It was awful getting the work completed.  I felt I had been railroaded by the professional who suggested I take this class.  “It will be easy” she said suggesting I could get my feet wet with this class.  This last project made me feel like I was drowning.

My classmates have been very helpful.  Half of what I have learned this semester has been from them.  They are a walking, talking websites.  My wish is that I find this character in all the student in future classes.  I will certainly need it.

While my academic life continues forward and the children forage, my social life aka Significant Other (SIG) seems to be adjusting.  We haven’t been able to see each other as much as we like.  My distress calls are keeping him distracted enough that he thinks he is receiving the same amount of attention pre-class.  But this is not the truth.  I have SIG guilt.   Hopefully our trip to see Paul McCartney later this month will remedy this situation.  Of course the student, me, will have to work on our trip.  More guilt.

Speaking of Paul… I notified my instructor of my upcoming absence to which she responded with questions.  Was it business? No. Was it medical? No.  Then it would be recorded as an unexcused absence.  I didn’t explain that it was a concert and tickets had been purchased months in advance.  Those details were not relevant.  I did start to consider was the option that I should lobby Paul himself to provide me with a video excuse.  Would that get an “excused absence”?  I doubt it.  It would have however make a point.  Sometimes you just have to go the extra step to provide evidence that you don’t make up random excuses.  You do the work, make the effort and do your best given the circumstances. 

Does anyone out there have a Paul McCartney connection?  SIG I discussed this situation over margaritas last night.  I’m going to pursue it in my free time, washing dishes at midnight. I think it is worth a little bit of time and could be fun especially if my effort gets noticed.

Meanwhile I will continue to carry on.  Carry on means carrying the back pack, purse, and coffee splashing down my office clothing while I chatter away to SIG discussing the latest stressful situation and asking for daily countdown for our October get away.

Peace.

NEPB

The Nightmare of Second Week

The week began with a nightmare: the stress was obviously beginning to settle in.  I awoke in the early morning Monday morning crying and thrashing in my bed. It was a bad one this time, my Oncologist tracking me down in an odd location to deliver unwanted news.  I had a difficult time shaking the dream from my waking state.  The week was off to a shaky start.

My Dad always told me everything he had read about dreams.  We had many discussions over the years; especially about my own; I tend to have lucid dreams.   The lucid dream is a phenomenon.  The dreamer realizes they are dreaming and can sometimes stop the craziness or solve the problem in the dream.

 Daddy read that the sleeping brain, which isn’t really sleeping, has to do something to fix itself, keep itself entertained. The brain sends electrical impulses through channels in strange paths, paths that the waking brain wouldn’t normally take.  Stresses of the day cause the sleeping brain to make even odder repairs.  Daddy wasn’t a brain researcher; he just loved to read medical journals.  Maybe he should have been a doctor.  He didn’t think he smart enough so he became a Chemical Engineer and jack of all trades.  I miss Daddy’s weirdness and wisdom.

Daddy has been on my mind quite a bit week.  I’ve asked my children what they thought he would think of me going back to college to pursue a second degree.  Big smiles appeared on their faces.  “He would love it.”  He would tell me to calm down, take better notes and work longer hours.

Work longer hours! I am already staying after work to make up for class time. It’s making for a really long day.  Homework is getting longer, assignments are piling on and the house will be one big pile of dog hair by Winter.  I attended a function with my SIG on Thursday evening.  Chatting with new and old faculty about the new semester; I received several raised eyebrows when I explained to them I was enrolled in classes.  I felt the judgment: She is crazy.  She has a few bolts loose. I am getting accustom to this reaction.  Yes! I am crazy.

The next day, feeling more exhausted than usual, I excused myself from the office and made an appointment with the doctor.  I had come down with a sinus infection. The doctor gave me a couple of prescriptions and told me to go home.  Homework, housework and social life would be put on hold.  I received a text from my oldest daughter Saturday night asking me if I was watching “The Game”. I explained I would watch the game until the meds kicked in and I fell asleep.   I did fall asleep, missing the second half of the big game.  Sickness and exhaustion had claimed their victim, victory was a pillow and a box of tissues.

The new week had to be better.  A new dream taunted me as I awoke Monday morning.  I found myself the director of a children’s beauty pageant, seeking a secret code at the home of an acquaintance.  She insisted I put the dog, not my dog, in the garage and secure a series of gate in a specific order. She watched closely and nodded approvingly when I pointed out that the dog had crossed its legs in what I called the Scottish Cross.  Again a very strange dream. I hope I figure out the usefulness of this secret code.  

I am wondering now if I should be taking a class in abnormal psychology. Maybe I would learn more about these crazy dreams. This has the potential to backfire; you could learn more about yourself than you want to know.  I think I will stay in the IT management field for now.  It’s safe.

Today I happily discovered that I have Ten out of Ten on all of my assignments thus far.  If the odd dreams are the path to good grades, I will have to stop worrying so much.  My brain is obviously trying to fix something.  I should let it be; it knows better than I.

The crash of Week One

The Earth shook on both coasts this past week:  the quake in Napa and me walking into a college classroom for the first time in 25 years.  I didn’t cause damage to buildings or destroy barrels of expensive wine.  Although putting a dent in a bottle of wine did cross my mind several times.

As I was leaving the office to attend my first class, my co-workers jokingly asked if I had my peanut butter sandwich for recess and hoped all the kiddies would play nice with the new kid.  I have been terrified they would not.

Entering the classroom a little early and seeing a semi-circle of desk set my heart racing.  You can’t hide very well in that type of set up.  The instructor sees all faces.  I knew ahead of time from the classroom assignment that it was a small sized room; you can be slightly unseen if the desk are in normal rows.  I just didn’t want to stand out any more than necessary.  It’s not my style. 

As students began to fill the desk, the instructor scanned the semicircle, back and forth.  Her eyes never resting on one particular person.  At one point I thought she did a double take when looking at me.  Maybe it was just me being overly sensitive of the fact that I am 30 plus years older than the average student.  It’s completely obvious, if only to me.   Again, me feeling out of place and being that “girl”.

Introductions were made and the first assignment began, students had to interview each other.  Oh geez!  I don’t particularly care for this type of thing.  It means we will be doing a group work later.  Thus the point of getting to know each other up front.   I don’t mind finding out information about other people, I just don’t like giving it away in a face to face situation.  Blogging of course is okay.  You don’t see me; I don’t see your reaction. (chuckle chuckle)

I heard their reaction when my interviewer introduced me: stating the obvious: second degree, 5 children, with 30,000 extra because I work at the University.  It’s a true statement.  I do consider their successes my own.  I think many employees feel the same: we are invested in their future.   This is a class of interesting young people with bright ideas, quick minds.  I found eyes bouncing around the room trying to following each comment.

Then of course there was the homework.  What?  Homework on the first day? It was piled on like a free all you can eat buffet.   Thinking of getting a jump start on the semester, I did the first assignment ahead of schedule and submitted it.  I have other deadlines in my other world. Wow!  I thought I was so cool: This was going to be okay. I had a strategy.

  I received a notice the next morning saying I had completed the wrong assignment.  Drat. Panic. Double Drat. Double Panic. At the time I was in my office and had no means of fixing the situation.  At lunch I went home and began working on the correct assignment, finishing it after work and making the rest of the family late for a birthday party for my 6 year old grandson.  Apparently the Giant Mouse in charge of the party was busy eating cheese in a back room and didn’t mind that Nana was doing her homework. 

Except for the births of my children, I don’t think I have ever been so tired and nervous at the same time.  My social life has suffered a little, the house is a wreck (perfect excuse right?), the dog is jealous of the space on the couch that my textbooks now occupy and my 11 is complaining that she doesn’t have access to my laptop. 

All damage assessments have not been compiled at this time.  A full report will be issued later.  One can only hope that the aftershocks will be minor, no more wine be wasted and everyone gets out safely, sanity intact.

If you want to help Earthquake victims, Please donate to the American Red Cross.

Peace.

NEPB