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My room used to be clean. A little over two weeks ago I shuffled and sorted through all the papers lying on the floor and cluttering my desk, tied the recyclables up in a neat little bundle and put the items with personal info in a pile to be shredded. While I was tidying up my brother poked his head in and asked how long I thought it'd last. He put money on one week, I said one day. I guess we both lost, although it's still pretty sad all around.
The mess means I'm not functioning at full capacity, as my personal space is a fairly good indicator of how well I'm dealing with stressors. That being said, I'm feeling okay, and "okay" doesn't mean "omigod I feel like crap, don't talk to me, emoemoemo"; it's a genuine "I'm doing satisfactorily" [and that's not even a word, is it?]. School, usually my main source of angst, is challenging but has yet to cross the line over to torture. The first clinical practical was pass/fail, and I passed that with little problem. The first exam is this Wednesday, and I'm a little more worried about it. So worried, in fact, that I haven't sat down to seriously study since the weekend started. That will be shortly remedied.
We're a small group so we all more or less know each other and get along. I might even have found a friend, along with the queue of acquaintances I always end up making (as I sing "Everyone knows my name, but nobody knows meeeeee/ emoemoemo"). It's odd, because I spent the first couple of days of classes attracted to her and didn't want to fall into the trap of looking like an idiot around her...hence I attempted to avoid her. That plan didn't seem to work out, and she won me over to the friend side when she said that "[I'm] always smiling at everyone", a revelation since I've always heard that I rarely smile and I look too severe. We spend time together doing friend-like stuff (I take her down to the Seaport, she tells me about Chinese culture and shows me various characters, we run up and down the halls of the school singing Queen's "Best Friend", things of that nature). I'm wondering how long this will last, as I'm a creature who needs space and my friend track record is spotty.
Anywhozit, I had no class on Friday since hospital clinicals start this week and my clinical is on Monday. Friday started out with a trip to the vet to get some more pain meds for Krishna. I was stuck going with mother, since my brother was a punk and didn't want to get up early in the morning (and this wasn't even early; we left the house around 10). The vet I dealt with when I got the diagnosis wasn't there so I had to go through some hassle to get the pills, with the techs speaking to the senior vet on duty. Once that guy found out Krishna had osteosarcoma he called me into the room to attempt to explain the diagnosis and blah blah blah it's bad. I told him I knew, and then he kept pressing the point about putting Krishna down when things get bad. I got pissed (internally; I still kept my manners) and felt like he was saying I was doing Krishna a disservice by having her alive even now, which...I mean, I don't think so. Maybe I got mad because I don't know if I'll be able to say "when", and have been consciously trying to avoid the fact that I'm going to have to bring my dog in so some people who don't know her from Fefe can send her to Doggie Heaven.
I got back to the car after all of this and was fine until I talked to my mom. My mother is a (occasionally) wonderful woman, would give her right arm and left tit for her kids, but has NO IDEA how to deal with people on an emotional level. When I told her the vet said I'd have to bring Krishna in when her quality of life degenerated, she chimed in "well, she hasn't been looking good for a while now" (not true, since we left Krishna running around the yard like a damn fool) and then, when I started crying she said "you can always get another dog" which...WRONG TO SAY and not true; my folks would never allow me to get another dog once Krishna passed, since I catch enough flack for her using the backyard as a latrine. She continued, going on about how dying is a way of life and I just wanted to remind her that she never feels that way when a person she knows has died. But, you know, tears and all. And I knew it was pointless trying to talk to her.
The rest of the day found me with a major headache and a haircut. The two are unrelated, except for the fact that no one in my family noticed or commented on either. I was slightly miffed, particularly about the haircut being ignored, but I guess I should have expected as much. It's nice to not have a weight of hair on the nape of my neck and yet still be able to throw it all in a ponytail when I feel too lazy to style it (which is basically every day).
Saturday I went to Project HAPPY and instantly wished I was home. They had more than enough help there and I felt a little out-of-place. I'm not getting paid so I technically don't have to go anymore, but, you know. I ended up staying only until 12:30 and calling it a day. First I said I wasn't going to go back at all. I was all resolute...until I ran into one of the kids I worked with last year. She'd arrived late and didn't get time in the bowling alley. She ended up going down there as I was heading up the stairs in the opposite direction, to leave. When I told her I was going she made this sad face only kids and pets can muster, and then asked if I was going to come back next week. Before I stopped myself I said "sure". Annoyed grunt. I also told the assisting director I'd be back, all the while NOT wanting to come back. I guess I'll decide how I feel on the matter come next Thursday.
On the way back from PH I finished Anansi Boys. Cute tale, and I got a kick out of all the West Indian references. I'm trying to push the book onto my mother, but my aunt expressed interest once she found out Anansi was in it ("I thought that was only a Trinidadian thing") and that there was WI stuff in it. I may find some Gaiman converts yet. What was with the lime joke? I kept feeling like I missed something. Oh well.
I should be sleeping, since I do have to wake up early for church. I keep meaning to write about it, but, you know - slippery mind and all.
Whee! One-hit wonderage!
The mess means I'm not functioning at full capacity, as my personal space is a fairly good indicator of how well I'm dealing with stressors. That being said, I'm feeling okay, and "okay" doesn't mean "omigod I feel like crap, don't talk to me, emoemoemo"; it's a genuine "I'm doing satisfactorily" [and that's not even a word, is it?]. School, usually my main source of angst, is challenging but has yet to cross the line over to torture. The first clinical practical was pass/fail, and I passed that with little problem. The first exam is this Wednesday, and I'm a little more worried about it. So worried, in fact, that I haven't sat down to seriously study since the weekend started. That will be shortly remedied.
We're a small group so we all more or less know each other and get along. I might even have found a friend, along with the queue of acquaintances I always end up making (as I sing "Everyone knows my name, but nobody knows meeeeee/ emoemoemo"). It's odd, because I spent the first couple of days of classes attracted to her and didn't want to fall into the trap of looking like an idiot around her...hence I attempted to avoid her. That plan didn't seem to work out, and she won me over to the friend side when she said that "[I'm] always smiling at everyone", a revelation since I've always heard that I rarely smile and I look too severe. We spend time together doing friend-like stuff (I take her down to the Seaport, she tells me about Chinese culture and shows me various characters, we run up and down the halls of the school singing Queen's "Best Friend", things of that nature). I'm wondering how long this will last, as I'm a creature who needs space and my friend track record is spotty.
Anywhozit, I had no class on Friday since hospital clinicals start this week and my clinical is on Monday. Friday started out with a trip to the vet to get some more pain meds for Krishna. I was stuck going with mother, since my brother was a punk and didn't want to get up early in the morning (and this wasn't even early; we left the house around 10). The vet I dealt with when I got the diagnosis wasn't there so I had to go through some hassle to get the pills, with the techs speaking to the senior vet on duty. Once that guy found out Krishna had osteosarcoma he called me into the room to attempt to explain the diagnosis and blah blah blah it's bad. I told him I knew, and then he kept pressing the point about putting Krishna down when things get bad. I got pissed (internally; I still kept my manners) and felt like he was saying I was doing Krishna a disservice by having her alive even now, which...I mean, I don't think so. Maybe I got mad because I don't know if I'll be able to say "when", and have been consciously trying to avoid the fact that I'm going to have to bring my dog in so some people who don't know her from Fefe can send her to Doggie Heaven.
I got back to the car after all of this and was fine until I talked to my mom. My mother is a (occasionally) wonderful woman, would give her right arm and left tit for her kids, but has NO IDEA how to deal with people on an emotional level. When I told her the vet said I'd have to bring Krishna in when her quality of life degenerated, she chimed in "well, she hasn't been looking good for a while now" (not true, since we left Krishna running around the yard like a damn fool) and then, when I started crying she said "you can always get another dog" which...WRONG TO SAY and not true; my folks would never allow me to get another dog once Krishna passed, since I catch enough flack for her using the backyard as a latrine. She continued, going on about how dying is a way of life and I just wanted to remind her that she never feels that way when a person she knows has died. But, you know, tears and all. And I knew it was pointless trying to talk to her.
The rest of the day found me with a major headache and a haircut. The two are unrelated, except for the fact that no one in my family noticed or commented on either. I was slightly miffed, particularly about the haircut being ignored, but I guess I should have expected as much. It's nice to not have a weight of hair on the nape of my neck and yet still be able to throw it all in a ponytail when I feel too lazy to style it (which is basically every day).
Saturday I went to Project HAPPY and instantly wished I was home. They had more than enough help there and I felt a little out-of-place. I'm not getting paid so I technically don't have to go anymore, but, you know. I ended up staying only until 12:30 and calling it a day. First I said I wasn't going to go back at all. I was all resolute...until I ran into one of the kids I worked with last year. She'd arrived late and didn't get time in the bowling alley. She ended up going down there as I was heading up the stairs in the opposite direction, to leave. When I told her I was going she made this sad face only kids and pets can muster, and then asked if I was going to come back next week. Before I stopped myself I said "sure". Annoyed grunt. I also told the assisting director I'd be back, all the while NOT wanting to come back. I guess I'll decide how I feel on the matter come next Thursday.
On the way back from PH I finished Anansi Boys. Cute tale, and I got a kick out of all the West Indian references. I'm trying to push the book onto my mother, but my aunt expressed interest once she found out Anansi was in it ("I thought that was only a Trinidadian thing") and that there was WI stuff in it. I may find some Gaiman converts yet. What was with the lime joke? I kept feeling like I missed something. Oh well.
I should be sleeping, since I do have to wake up early for church. I keep meaning to write about it, but, you know - slippery mind and all.
Whee! One-hit wonderage!
