Oh, July.

I miss July.  I miss that sandy beach and the warmth and the thunderstorms of vacation.  I miss the me that existed in July when I last blogged, when I last wrote.

August hit like a hailstorm, fast and ferocious.  I searched for an umbrella, a coat, any bit of shelter, but I found none.  She let up on occasion and the sun would come out, but the storm that started in August would last through the semester. 

I drowned myself in papers to grade, assignments to create, assignments to complete, emails to send.  I rarely stopped thinking and doing and surviving, and when I did decide I needed a little respite, it was usually at the wrong time which, upon returning to the whirlwind, left me more breathless than before.

When I think back, though, it wasn't so terrible as it sounds now, as it felt then.  I learned so much, and I grew so much.

I started my second year of teaching, and the babies I inherited are so precious; I adore them.

Hub started his Master's program and is going to school full time, so we had to learn to carefully orchestrate our time together and our conversations--a big adjustment.

We moved two blocks from where we lived--crazy. 

I took six graduate hours.  Plenty of normal teachers work full time and take that many hours (some even more), and they survive. Come to think of it, I guess I survived, but I'm not just about surviving.

The semester was taxing and left me tired and dizzy all the time, and I decided that since I didn't have to live like this, I wasn't going to.  Not anymore.

I got tired of forgetting things and feeling a constant state of panic.  I grew weary of re-prioritizing my life moment-by-moment.  I started resenting my education, and if I'm not learning anything, what good is it doing anyway?  It wasn't making me a better teacher or a better wife; it was definitely not making me a better person in general either.

So I decided to slow down, to learn how to breathe again, to learn to enjoy.  Who cares if I don't finish my program lickety-split?  Does it really matter that I can't multitask as well as it seems everyone else can?  No, I don't think it does.

I think it matters that I learned how much is too much, and I just very nearly crossed that line; now, I'm ready to back far away from it.

Happy January,

Fiji, My Fiji, how I love Thee

When I am stressed and life feels like too much, my dreams turn to Fiji.  A place I've never been but desperately want to go.  Fiji is an oasis in my mind.

In Fiji there are no bad attitudes or budgets or deadlines.  In Fiji there is deliciously fresh fruit and crystal clear waters and little huts to sleep in and a gentle breeze to wake me in the morning.  At night there is a hole-in-the-wall restaurant that serves my favorite fresh fish and is lit up with twinkle lights and a man plays the guitar and sings original songs.

In Fiji I wake up with nothing pressing on my mind; my muscles never spasm, and my head never aches.  I relish my days in Fiji reading and writing and taking pictures and making memories and being still.  

In Fiji, I am free.

Photo Credit: http://www.travel-guider.com/fiji-islands.html

So while I'm spending my weekend grading research papers and writing finals and prepping lessons, I'll be dreaming of Fiji. And when my eyes close, Fiji will appear so for a brief moment I'll be released from the grips of my life without her.  Someday we'll meet, Fiji and me, and that, my friends, will be a beautiful day.

It's time to get it on the calendar. . . . 

P.S. This is day sixteen of my twenty-one day blogging adventure. Two weeks down; one to go!  I'd say it's going well; it'd be going better if I really were in Fiji. . . .

Holy Cannoli

Yesterday it seemed like I was ready to quit my job and open a cannoli stand on a corner downtown.  I'd save lots of gas that way, but I wouldn't be happy.


Because the truth is I love teaching.  Even with all the stress and the grading and the emails and the repeating and the missing assignments and the bad attitudes and the begging for mercy and the crazy, it's the best job in the world. 


When I'm in front of a class I become a different person; I'm  not nearly so crazy in real life, but I love the person I become.  I love to watch teenagers learn and to hear what they're dealing with and to see them grow.  


So even though a cannoli stand would be a much tastier way to earn a living, it sure wouldn't be near as fun or rewarding.


Now, please excuse me so that I can fall into the bed and try to sleep until it's time to wake up and be to work by seven because in case you forgot: MY TO DO LIST IS CRAZY! (and things got added to this list today, but I'll spare you the nasty details--I can't bear to speak of it).

Good thing I love my job.


I hope you love yours too.


P.S. This is day fifteen of my twenty-one day blogging adventure. Two weeks down; one to go!  I'd say it's going well. You know, except for that I'M FREAKING OUT BECAUSE MY TO DO LIST IS CRAZY IMPOSSIBLE.

My To Do List*

*No part of this list is fabricated or exaggerated.  I wish.  All items on this list are due between May 14th and May 25th.  Holy. Cannoli. I don't know if I'll make it.




-Grade 52 research papers
-Validate authenticity of 52 research papers
-Grade 424 dialectical journal entries
-Grade 68 Psalm 23 rewrites
-Validate authenticity of 68 Psalm 23 rewrites
-Grade 89 Poetry Analysis Papers
-Grade 318 poems
-Validate authenticity of 318 poems
-Write a supplemental reading test
-Grade 45 supplemental reading tests
-Create a worksheet
-Create, proof, and submit two final exams
-Grade 90-106 final exams (specific number TBD)
-Create and submit lesson plans
-Verify final grades
-Read 189 pages of a book (just got that little sprinkle of joy YESTERDAY)
-TRY TO REMAIN CALM (should this be at the top? Maybe breathing should be at the top?)


If these were the only things happening, I might be a little more okay.  As it is, I still have a husband, friends, church activities, and a life to live.  Also, instead of spending my eight hour work day working on the items on my to do list, I spend my eight hour work day molding the young minds of America.  Oh, bless.


Again, Holy. Cannoli. That's all I can say any more: Holy. Flippin'. Cannoli.

P.S. This is day fourteen of my twenty-one day blogging adventure. Two weeks down; one to go!  I'd say it's going well. You know, except for that I'M FREAKING OUT BECAUSE MY TO DO LIST IS CRAZY IMPOSSIBLE.

A List of Sundries. . .

• May is a busy month.  It's making me tired, and I'm working on not being cranky. 

• Mostly may gives me anxiety because she is full of seemingly impossible deadlines that are fast approaching.



Maisie and Melvin riding in the car.

• I decided to be a vegetarian in May. Why?  I'm not totally sure, but here are the reasons I've come up with.
• I'm basically a vegetarian anyway.  I only eat meat at dinner, and I don't crave it at all.  Vegetables are my favorite.
• Lately I've started enjoying experiments in self control and discipline more.  
• I've always wanted to try being a vegetarian to see if I could, so I picked the month of May.  I don't know if it will last longer than that, but I wanted to give myself a time frame, so that when it's over I feel like I actually accomplished something.  (I'm all about reaching a goal).

 

• We went to the Great Balloon Glow a couple of weekends ago.  I loved it, just like last year.  Something about hot air ballons seems almost magical, and watching them really makes me want to ride in one, even though I'm terribly afraid of heights.

•  This year the Balloon Glow was a bit eerie because it was super windy, and balloons kept collapsing. Still cool, though.

This is my favorite balloon because I love the colors.

• The other day I gave away 16 pairs of shoes.  I don't think it's necessary to talk about how many I still own.  After the great purge, Hub bought shoe organizers, and I organized the bottom of my closet, which contains only shoes...

• I have 50ish research papers left to grade.  Will it ever end?  Don't answer that.  I know it'll end, and at this point the ending is more terrifying than being stuck in research-paper-grading limbo forever. . . Yikes.

Goodbye,

  

P.S. This is day twelve of my twenty-one day blogging adventure. So far, so good. Then again, it is only day twelve. . . .Is it safe to say yet that it actually is going well? 

I'm Back, Y'all. I think.

Fear not, friends.   I have returned to the blogosphere, though I doubt you had major concerns for my safety.  I didn't really mean to leave in the first place; I was all committed to a blog schedule and promising myself I'd use more pictures and... well, you know how I do.  At least this time I have a good excuse for my half-year absence.


Ladies and gentlemen, though I'm certain you already know because the only people who read me are my mom and dad, I got a big-girl job.  That's right; I'm a real, live teacher molding the minds of the future generation, students who are only 6ish years younger than me, but who's counting.


I got hired quite surprisingly only six days before the school year began. Talk about fabulously stressful.  It made for an interesting transition from stay-at-home-work-part-time-go-to-grad-school-some to full time, first year teacher.  Six days is a tiny window of a transitional period, but I survived, and now I'm back to tell the tale.


In the time I've been gone, many things have happened:
-I got a big girl job. (I know I already mentioned that, but I still find it exciting).
-I hit a cement column with the rear passenger door of my car.
-I added an "r" to the word "best" in front of a classroom of high school sophomores.  Talk about a great way to wake up 1st period.
-A bestest friend Charles got married!
-Hub and I got another puppy!  (His name is Melvin.  Pictures coming SOON).
-I made some resolutions for 2012.  (You know I love those).
-And much, much more, but the details escape me now.  See, this is why I really should keep up my blog.  Otherwise, I forget my life.


Anyway, I came to say that I'm back.


Stay tuned, 

Joy to the World/Connection has Come

This morning the internet man came.  He walked in our office, looked around, and declared, "There is nothing I can do."  Hub and I were astonished.  Baffled.  BUT, we were most certainly NOT speechless.
"Are you sure?"
"The last guys that came said it could be fixed."
After a little more prodding, he visited the office and returned with a lady who is the majority of the maintenance staff here.  She was on our side.  She fought for us, bullied the internet man around a little bit. I like her.  She took the internet  man on a trip around the apartment and the hallway, making all sorts of good suggestions.  Mostly just rubbing in his face that she knew a little bit about this line running, and she knew enough to know he hadn't done a thorough job. Take that internet man.  After all this bullying, he said he didn't have what he needed to fix the problem, but he would come back on another appointment.

I felt defeated.  I almost cried.  Not because of another day without internet, but because I have my first online class today starting at 4:30, and I really didn't feel like hanging out at Barnes and Noble for two hours.  Then, I got angry.  This problem was supposed to be fixed THREE appointments ago.  Did I really need to make another one?  I don't think so.  We passed ridiculous a long time ago, and I was fed up.

So, I called the internet people.  The person of the internet people I talk to is Kim.  I wish I could send Kim cookies.  Anyway, I called Kim.  I told her the history, the current story, my issues.  I used my polite, businessy voice with just a hint or two of tiss.  The tiss was to get my point across.  Trust me, with the internet (and cable) people around here, you can't get anything done without a hint of tiss.

After I concluded my tale of woe, Kim said, "Well, it looks like someone was already out there today?"

"Yes." I replied, "he came and then left because he didn't have the appropriate drill bit."

"Well, ma'am, I'm sorry to tell you this, but it says that fixing your issue would require drywall damage,      and the apartment manager won't allow it."

"That's not right."

"I'm sorry.  I know it's frustrating, but we see this a lot in apartment complexes."

"No.  Management gave it a go.  The tech guy left because he didn't have the right part.  He said he would come back.  I'm just calling to make sure we get a new appointment because we've had a little trouble with that in the past, and I'd like to make sure the tech that comes for the new appointment understands that it's going to be a difficult job, and I need him to be qualified."

"So, wait.  The apartment management said he could do what he needed to do to fix the issue?"

"Yes."

"You know what?  This isn't okay.  He'll be back as soon as possible and with his supervisor.  When is a good time for you?  I'm so sorry about all of this."

"It's okay.  As soon as possible is good with us."

"Okay, let me check the schedule.  I can't believe he falsified his report.  I'm so sorry this is happening.  Mrs. Hubbard, don't you worry.  We will get this problem resolved.  How does Friday sound?  11:30-2:30?"

"Sounds great.  Thank you so much."

"It's no problem at all.  I'll call you back to confirm that I've booked the appointment with your management, and please let me say again that the same tech will be back on Friday WITH his supervisor, so you should NOT run into ANY problems."

We ended the phone call with the usual niceties, and then about ten minutes later, Kim called back.

"Hi, ma'am.  This is Kim, with the internet people.  Will you be home for the rest of the day?"

"Yes."

"Okay, great.  The tech will come back today with his supervisor as soon as possible.  It shouldn't be more than an hour."

"Oh, wow.  Thank you SO much."

About thirty minutes after my chat with Kim, the tech returned with his supervisor.  They scurried around and asked me questions about my laundry room, looked up and down the walls.  I could sense a feeling of failure in the air, and I prayed that somehow our troubles could be fixed.  After a little more looking around, the two men came upstairs to the office.  I think they were arguing over who would have to tell me there was nothing to be done.  Then, like magic, a suggestion flowed from my lips, and the supervisor was on the ground, pulling things out of my closet.  Once he'd made a fairly large mess, the real magic happened, and a secret outlet was discovered.  The levels were checked.  They were good.  The modem was plugged up to the new outlet, and all was well with the world.

I thanked the tech guys about fifty-five times before they left, and just as they shut the door, I bolted upstairs to watch Safari navigate from one website to the next.  I think that's how Hub and I will be spending our free time for a while, enjoying the beauty of a solid internet connection.

the internet has been down, and I don't feel so good myself.

December 20, 2010, started out as any other December day.  It was chilly outside, and I decided to browse the internet during some of my morning's spare time.  I logged on the computer.  I opened Safari.  I typed my desired address.  Nothing.  I sighed.  I tried again.  Nothing.  I sighed.  I unplugged the router.  I counted a s l o w thirty seconds just to make sure enough time had passed before I plugged it back in.  I closed Safari.  I reopened Safari.  I typed in my desired address.  Nothing.  Again.  I unplugged the router and began again with my s l o w counting.  This time to sixty.  I plugged the router back in.  I closed and reopened Safari.  I typed in my desired address.  Nothing.  My eyes widened.  My hands began to shake. A cold sweat appeared on my brow.  I felt disoriented.  Where is my internet?  The beloved stealer of my time.  The one who helps me connect with friends and read the news.  Where has she gone?  I got creative and unplugged the modem.  I waited.  I plugged it back in. I went through the usual routine.  I think you get it by now, right?  Nothing happened.  It was terrible.


It's been a long 19 days.


Last night, two men dressed in blue uniforms came to fix the problem.  Guess what?  They didn't.  They provided a temporary fix; the real fix is coming soon, but they'll need to start in the morning because there is going to be "pretty significant drywall damage."   Drywall damage?  Doesn't bother me. I just want the internet to work.  Need to take my pinky toe, my right ear lobe, my left knee?*  Doesn't bother me.  I just want the internet.  *That was a joke.  So was that stuff earlier about the shaky hands.*


Hopefully, the little fellows in their blue uniforms will come back soon because school is close to starting, and internet access is required for my classes.  I mean, how can I take an online class offline?  I hope you're seeing the issue here.  It's starting to get stressful.  It was okay to be internet-less over break, even though I was itching to blog and browse and whatnot, but I survived.  In just a few days, internet access will transform from a simple luxury to a necessity.  My education depends on it!  (How's that for dramatic?)  


Well, now you know where I've been and why I never wished you a happy anything this holiday season.  I hope your holidays were filled with joy, love, and entertainment.  Mine certainly were.  I am looking forward to a 2011 filled with worry-free access to the internet.  After all, I have lots of things to talk about.  For example, it's a new year (didn't you hear?), resolutions, Christmas, driving adventures, opportunities, hopes, etc, etc, etc.


P.S.  I typed this yesterday, and just as I was ready to hit "PUBLISH POST,"  the internet went down.  I'm living a vicious cycle here.

Overreaction.

Okay, I'll admit it. I probably overreacted a bit about this whole being a grad student thing. This type of overreaction has happened before in my educational life. It typically occurs at the beginning of every semester. I like to call it syllabi shock.

In case you couldn't tell, it's a pretty serious condition.

Syllabi shock occurs when a student receives a syllabus from each of her classes for the semester, reads through them in great detail (noticing every assignment, exam, and stipulation the professor has discussed), records assignments and other important information in her planner, takes a step back, notices all the things she has to do with little time in between, and swirls into a state of serious panic. The panic can last anywhere from a few minutes to a few days. Serious cases, ones lasting more than seven days, should be reported.

None of my bouts with syllabi shock have needed to be reported, as they don't last long. It just seems to take me a day or so to decide that I can really do something.

This semester will definitely be challenge, but I think I'm up to it. I've already scratched out two assignments in planner. I love the feeling of accomplishment.

See Yesterday's Post for Greater Understanding of Today's

I am competent and intelligent.

I hold a Bachelor's degree.

I am grateful for my education.

I can do this.

I am competent and intelligent.

I hold a Bachelor's degree.

I am grateful for my education.

I can do this.

I am competent and intelligent.

I hold a Bachelor's degree.

I am grateful for my education.

I can do this.

I am competent and intelligent.

I hold a Bachelor's degree.

I am grateful for my education.

I can do this.

I am competent and intelligent.

I hold a Bachelor's degree.

I am grateful for my education.

I can do this.

I am competent and intelligent.

I hold a Bachelor's degree.

I am grateful for my education.

I can do this.

I AM COMPETENT AND INTELLIGENT.

I HOLD A BACHELOR'S DEGREE.

I AM GRATEFUL FOR MY EDUCATION.

I CAN DO THIS.

I AM COMPETENT AND INTELLIGENT!

I HOLD A BACHELOR'S DEGREE!

I AM GRATEFUL FOR MY EDUCATION!

I CAN DO THIS!

I CAN DO THIS!

I CAN DO THIS!!

I CAN DO THIS!!!

My name is Jessica, and I am a graduate student trying not to lose my mind. So far, I'm succeeding.

Goodbye, Life. Hello, Grad School.

My career in graduate school started yesterday.

It's day two, and I'm already exhausted.

Want to know what I've done so far?

READ THE SYLLABI.

Yep. That's it. I've read my three syllabi (and a few other important pieces of information) and recorded due dates and reading schedules in my planner (color coded, of course).

The problem is, I feel as though I've just read four textbooks and written one of my own.

To combat the sense of stress and overwhelmedness* I feel, I've started repeating this mantra to myself:

I am competent and intelligent. I hold a Bachelor's degree. I am grateful for my education. I can do this.

I repeat it over and over and over. I start softly, just as a nice hum behind all of the stressful stirrings that buzz around in my brain, and gradually my mantra grows louder and louder until the stressful stirrings cease for a moment, and I calm down. Let's hope this works for the whole semester.

*I know that's not a real word.