Venting

Sometimes you just need to open the window and let in fresh air. And sometimes you just have to let it out.

I got a B- on a paper. Considering that the program basically asks you to leave if you get a C, this is the equivalent of almost failing. Super.

Same paper, I was chastized, I kid you not, for including helpful graphics. But no problem, I can leave them in when I rewrite it. (Rewrite does not improve the grade.)

I got a 1 of 2 on my brief. I didn't define the concept the way I was supposed to - even though I appropriately identified and explained an applicable situation - I didn't write a specific definition. But no fears (slight sarcasm), I can rewrite it.

I worked on something that has now left me with three choices. Two make me a bad person and the third could stress me out emotionally. Choice A is between doing something moral and doing nothing. Choice B is using my talents for the destruction of another person's reputation. Choice C is trying again, along a similar path to the one I've already used, hoping for a different result (remember the definition of insanity). Bad person or sad person? I'm not liking these options.

I put my foot in my mouth with the professor I was having trouble with. I thought we had things worked out and my stupid, huge foot - in an incredibly flexible yoga-like fashion - managed to get in my over-sized, hard to close mouth. Depending on how it sounded to him, it could have almost been an insult. It wasn't supposed to be, I was really saying something bad about myself, but I just couldn't get it out. Go me.

And I may have to get a chicken pox vaccination. Not because I could get chicken pox - I've already had them. But 20 years later my private, elitist, academic record-holding school has decided to play by a different set of rules. Hopefully my pediatrician will be able to find the record of my visit, IF my mother brought me in (which isn't overly likely since she worked in a hospital for a while and my sister had had them 2 weeks before me). Here's hoping they like looking through old microfiche.

All in all, today wasn't superb. I was frighteningly productive for all the drama. Oh, and I even called the police when a bus came by flashing the "SOS, CALL POLICE" in the place of the next stop. My life is insanely bizarre.

I guess my hiatus is over, but considering all the work I have to do and the rewriting I should get started on, I think the catch-up will be a few days in coming.

I am lucky I know I am blessed. Otherwise, on days like today, I might think I was cursed. Closing the existential window and opening the real one. Loveya, ~Heather