open letter

Dearest Darling Sleep,

Oh, how I miss you. Oh, how you taunt me with your soft-spoken promises of calm and sanity. However, I cannot give in, no matter how alluring you definitely are.

I'll embrace you once again in about twenty-six days. In the meantime, don't forget or give up on me...I shall return.

With fond memories,
v

just for fun...

I thought I'd begin the readings for two weeks from now instead of the readings for next week. Because I have time for this. So, I take back my 'yea for Foucault' statement and I'd like to replace it with a primal scream. Or, at least at big fat UGH!

I figure that if I don't sleep tonight and I don't sleep tomorrow night I might be able to make it. Oh, then I can't sleep Monday night because I've got to get through the reading for Tuesday (usually Wednesday, but this coming week, class has been rescheduled). Then, Wednesday? I say I go teach and then come home and sleep all the live-long day.

I think this is an example of regression, not growth. Suddenly, I'm a newbie at this stuff and I can't properly read a reading list (ha!).

glimpses

Okay, just a little bit of a list for now:

* I just walked outside because I'm losing my mind...and my books. I had to fetch a book from my car and when I opened my front door? Crap, snow. (No, not any actual crap, that's just a toned-down version of the thought that went through my head on seeing the snow.)

* I'm planning on being very open to hanging out il quest'estate (this summer). Anyone up for keeping me entertained? It's not difficult. Mainly, I like to walk places, take Pic to the park, that kind of thing. (And, hey, you might be able to sign up now for a lifetime membership as I have no plans for my life after the morning of May 18th when grades are due.)

* There are only about eighty-three more hours until my head implodes. (I'll try for imploding and not exploding...less mess for others later.) Then, it'll have to reinflate (it'll be something like Judge Doom in Who Framed Roger Rabbit?) because about a month later, I'll have to go through the process all over again (times three). Yippi-chi.

nightmare

Okay, so now I'm even less inclined to trust elevators. This video made me anxious and brought on some tears. (And, I so would have peed in that elevator at least a few times by then).


I'm still reading through sweetney's archives and this is where I came across this New Yorker video.

sleep deprivation

When I only get about three hours of sleep every other night, things are bound to go wrong, right?

When I was growing up, there were times when my younger sister and I had to get up when it was still dark so Mom could take us to the sitter's or to daycare. The night before, we'd pack our backpacks and our lunchboxes (my lunchbox being a dark pink plastic Barbie and the Rockers Thermos version). We'd lay out our clothes. We'd set the table with bowls, spoons and cereal boxes. We'd fill the cream pitchers with milk and leave them in the refrigerator. In the morning, everything was good to go.

I'm still pretty much like this. I pack mine and Pic's lunches the night before (okay, so it's usually around one, the morning of) and most of the time I'll lay out my clothes. (Pic's clothes are still pretty much hung up by the outfit, so we can usually just grab a clothing-laden hanger and a pair of socks and be set.) I definitely make sure to pack my fifty pounds worth of school paraphernalia*. Until the no-longer-wee hours of this morning, I was reading for class. Before I dozed off, I made sure to get up and put my book with my school stuff...or so I thought. This morning, as is usual for Wednesdays, Pic and I were somewhat rushed in getting out of the apartment and I didn't recheck my bag before I left. On the walk up to school today (I drive, but I have to walk to my building), I was quickly rooting through my bag and I couldn't find my book. I freaked out for a moment, rearranged my whole day and then grumbled all the way up to the building about, 'How can my friggin' backpack way so friggin' much if my book isn't here?'

Long story brought to an abrupt halt: My book was in my bag. It's just that I carry so much other crap that I actually didn't see it in there. (This is my tote that I carry in addition to my backpack. And, today, in addition to my purse. That's another fun story. The night before class, I always take the pertinent items out of my purse and put them with my school stuff so I don't have to carry my purse, but as I was getting Pic and myself into the car today, I realized that my perfectly pointless purse was in my freaking hand.)

Spring Break, oh how I crave your pseudo-laid-back goodness.

Now, I'm off to read.

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* This is the spelling that Blogger's spellcheck gave me, but I'm somewhat suspect that the second 'r' belongs. It just looks funny. Is it a silent 'r'? Mayhap, this is another side effect of my lack of sleep: I can no longer distinguish whether words are real or some sort of weird muppet-sounding words. Meh-nom-meh-nah.



This part made Pic laugh aloud uncontrollably and therefore I love it even more (than I did the week before...).

affirmations

I am a lone reed. I am Jack's medulla oblongata. I am a work in progress.

Okay, so that last one's the one. I am constantly reminding myself what a friend so adamantly told me the other day, 'I am a work in progress.' It's so hard to really accept this when so much of the future is so uncertain, though. I want to know things for sure. I want assurances, people, and I want them now (and possibly a goose to lay a golden egg). Everything I do seems, to me, to be so end-all, so important. I let myself get so wrapped up in my own little, tiny dramas and freak myself out.

This semester makes me nervous. There are so many stupid little 'what ifs.' I'm not a fan of these. And, yes, I know that one day, years from now, these nights of sleeplessness will be but vague memories and I'll shake my head wearily at the stress I put myself through (this is what I do for fun: stress) and not understand why. There are brief moments of clarity when I know that things will be resolved in some fashion and it'll all be over and life will go on in some sense (or, at least, this is what I let myself believe at times). But...what if it doesn't? Huh? What then?

Wait! Nevermind, that thought does not compute. Really, I don't want to think about it. The people on my committee have known me for at least two years and I'm pretty sure they want to see me succeed (or, at least see me be able to get the crap out).

So, in order to keep the panic at bay, I've been given some other advice recently:



Also, Coach J's post resonated with me today. That song always gets me.

open letter

I have been composing this letter in my head for a couple of weeks now. Just so you know the extent of things here, when I can't even post a proper blog entry.

Hello out there,

I am barely treading water over here. I cannot even think of a better idiom. I cannot even play with this one because what I am experiencing feels so much like I would imagine drowning to feel.

I often let myself believe that 'this time' I will sleep like a normal person. I will get to everything in a wonderfully timely fashion and I will have time to actually sleep when all the rest of La Casa B is slumbering. However, somewhere deep inside, I know that I never believed this.

I have been pretty much nonstop reading for the last month. (Hey, I did qualify that statement...I know, I'm not reading right now...well I am reading as I type, but whatever.) I will be pretty much nonstop reading for the next twelve weeks. Actually, at some point, there will be more writing going into the process, although the reading will not diminish.

In light of this information, I have decided that I have to stop telling people that I will do things. I cannot. I just cannot do things. I don't care how enticing these things sound. I'd love to go to the climbing gym. When the weather is more friendly, I'd love to go climbing outside on actual rock-faces. I'd love to go snow-shoeing. I'd love to just hang out. However, these things are becoming less and less possible with each passing day. Every time I take time out to do something like this (or like posting a blog), I have to deduct that time from sleep so that I can -- you guessed it -- read some more.

I am losing all sense of self here (though I am, ironically, no less self-centered, obviously) and that is not easy when I am at the end of a definite stage in my life. I am supposed to be making major decisions here, but instead, I'm muddling through Marx, slogging through Shakespeare and groping my way through Greenblatt. I'm liking myself less and less with every passing day, but so far, I'm managing to cling to something like reality and sanity (I just knocked on my wooden desk). This hold, however, I know to be tenuous.

I know, I know, I know that I am not the first nor the last person who has gone/will go through this. So many of those I know have already done it and with grace. This is a first for me though, folks, and every day, I dread failure. I know that I should ac-cen-tuate the positive and e-lim-inate the negative (or something), but that's a hard ideal for me to stick with at the moment. I am trying to focus only on the day to day, but that isn't entirely possible because I also have to line up what is next for me and mine.

And, all this talk about me when I can't even figure out who that is is infuriating...to me.

So, I am going to be a lot less accessible to most everyone for the next three months. I apologize for this in advance. This does not mean that I love you and cherish you any less. If I'm snappy or loopy or just hysterical (you know, being in possession of a uterus (that I don't really use) and all) and insane, I really apologize. If I ramble for a good part of class, I'm going on autopilot here and I don't even know for sure if I possess this autopilot of which I speak. I don't know how to get through this without being almost wholly self-centered, but if you have suggestions for successfully getting by, please let me know. For those of you who have been here (no matter where, just in any stage of your life), I'd appreciate some understanding. For those of you who are not nearly as dramatic as I, please just feel free to ignore me for three months.

A fond farewell and until we meet again,
v

P.S. This does not mean that I will be silent here. This is how I release and I can do this in the middle of the dark which is probably preferable for those of you who prefer to sleep at such times.

the beginnings of a panic attack

Okay, so yesterday was my first real day back. I don't have any school activities scheduled for Tuesdays so I got a late start this week. (This also means that my Monday class doesn't start until next week and somehow this makes me feel like I'm behind.)

Yesterday, I met with Dr Chair. (Still needs a better pseudonym, no? Dr Syrah? Dr Sirrah? I'll think about it.) Just before that, I met with Dr Jones. On top of taking two seminars and teaching one class, I'm also completing my final MA project. Most people know this as the comps process, but I'm designing a course. I'm going for something like English Renaissance Literature: Sex in the Renaissance (thanks for the suggestion from Dr Syrah). I also have an apartment, a husband, some covert cats and a very-soon-to-be four-year-old (which means birthday party planning). I've restarted regular Pilates workouts and Cardo and I are planning to join the climbing gym February 1st. In order to use our membership wisely, we'll need to go at least three times a week.

Okay, this may not seem like much -- the list is long, but these are normal things -- but yesterday, things got added to this list. Both Dr Jones and a friend informed me of impending Renaissance Mafia meetings. We are planning to meet once a week to discuss the larger issues regarding English Renaissance literature (it's so easy to get bogged down in the minutia of the texts that we are looking for that good ol' Ren forest here). Also, Blood, Love and Rhetoric is scheduled to start up again this semester. I told Dr Syrah that I would be interested in organizing one, but he said that he'd be perfectly okay to do it this semester (very nice). We're planning four plays, but I'll have to report back later on what these are (I can only recall Merry Wives of Windsor and The Devil Is an Ass (which I think we already did)). Dr Syrah also said he was thinking to initiate a Renaissance film night (films of productions of Renaissance plays and such...obviously not films from the English Renaissance...just thought I'd clear that up). I might be able to squeeze one of those in (especially if I bring a book and a book light). Finally, a friend (who will remain nameless unless she cares to identify herself*), suggested a knitting/crocheting group. I'd really like to learn either of these skills, and both would be great. It'd be nice to be able to do either of these while I watched tv (y'know, when I can begin doing that again in earnest after this semester is over), instead of reading while watching tv which makes concentrating on either medium difficult.

Oh, and Cardo will be taking a class this semester also. He's finally beginning to take some automotive classes, which he's wanted to do for quite some time now.

I joked to Ms B yesterday, after class, that if I can just make it through the next four months without sleeping, I'll take a nice long nap this summer.

So, to totally bastardize a prayer I've known my whole life:

Grant me the serenity to make it through this semester without melting down,
Grant me the courage to make it through this semester with some confidence,
And grant me the wisdom to earn a freaking Master's degree.

It's going to be a long one, baby.

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* I'm only not identifying this person because she was convinced that we were going to laugh at her suggestion. I think it's a great suggestion, but just in case, I'll let her choose whether or not to out herself.

oh how i've missed you

Okay, so the move is over. Well, as long as you count many of our items still living in the various boxes piled around the apartment as a move being over.

Anyhow, I haven't had internet access at home since Monday, and I'm still waiting. I've been pretty calm about this. It's not like I don't have eight-three million other things I need to be doing aside from checking blogs. But checking blogs is waaay more fun, for the most part.

Last night was opening night of The Alchemist. Tonight is closing night. I'd like to say that last night went off without a hitch, but, hello, it's theatre. So, yes, there were hitches. Some forgotten lines, a broken set piece, a mispronounced line that was repeated four times (just to make me cringe every time, no doubt). However, there was also the adlibbing. The adlibbing was great and funny and just completely proved that no matter how much they complained about not understanding Jonson, they really do.

I think tonight will be a lot more packed. I just got confirmation that two more people will try to make it.

This semester is finally winding down. I have one paper and two classes worth of grades due next week. I have to finish my writing sample and personal statements and get applications in for next year (so entirely not my idea of fun in any way).

I just want to be finished, finish moving in and take about ninety hours worth of naps. Hahahaha...not ever going to happen. Ah, well.

So, I hope to see more people at the show tonight. Have a great weekend all. Oh, and keep your fingers crossed, please, that we have home internet access by noon, as we were told we would. [I totally just typed 'wood' there. Maybe I should take a nap now.]

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P.S. We also no longer have satellite service at our apartment. We don't want cable. So, we get a few channels and that's it. I'm pretty happy as long as we get PBS. I'll miss TLC (for What Not to Wear) and USA (for Monk and Psych), but I'll get over it. Cardo will miss the Discovery Channel and the History Channel, but he'll get over it, I hope. We are thinking about subscribing to NetFlix. Any thoughts on the service? Thanks.

insanity

Does anyone else have those moments of pure irrational breakdown.

Something along the lines of, "I can't find my friggin' book. Screw it, I quit grad school"? Hmm? Something like that?

A couple of weeks ago, I was frantically searching for my book for class. I put it aside, I swear I had just seen it and then, suddenly, poof!, the friggin' thing was gone. I frantically searched for about forty-five minutes before I decided I was making myself way crazier than I should be. I was so entirely not amused with myself.

Losing my book is clearly a rational reason to chuck it all, no?

I have a feeling I'll be having plenty more of these days in the very immediate future.

disaster!...on a totally nerdy scale

I just had a mini heart-stopping experience. Okay, so mini is so not the term. My cool was definitely misplaced and I think it's still hiding under the desk here.

I was trying to add Waiter Rant to my "blogs" bookmark and my mouse was being a pita. I kept trying to get the ball to scroll, but it wouldn't. The next thing I know, I'd erased my freaking, fracking "blogs" bookmark. I'll give you a moment to take that in.

...

Okay, breathe. There is no going back, here, people. There is no way to retrieve this.

As evidenced by a very recent post, blogs are kind of my obsession ("you're an obsession, you're my obsession") at the moment and to lose all of my freaking folder makes me want to cry in a dark bathroom.

I know, I know, I have my blogroll, but that's only part of the story. I keep others handy, to check out later or to catch up on. I rarely put a blog on my blogroll that I haven't already read all of. Argh!

I believe that I am only missing about five blogs from the list, none that I read compulsively. I might not ever remember what those were, and, soon enough, I'll find others to fill in the blanks. (Just rememebered another...ah, I'm breathing a tiny sigh of relief.)

Alrighty, I just needed to share my moment of panic. I'm finished. Life goes on. I've copies all of the addresses and sent them to myself in e-mail. I suppose that I could just add them all to my blogroll, but I really can't. There's a method to what I do here and it pains me to deviate from it.