The Wee HoursYou'd think that, having severe insomnia, I would be getting all kinds of things done, goals accomplished, work completed, studies studied ... but noooo! All I have been able to do in this going-on two month sleep drought is refine my already excellent skills in procrastination.
So, what do I do with all this time? I stare at a lot of blogs, but not much registers ... eh? what's that you say? I watch cooking shows, but when I want to cook, I can't remember any recipes that I saw. I try to study ... although, last week that was off the table, as it was spring break, but I am back on that again. I read one whole page in my American Government text before my little mind wandered away. I reeled it back in in time to go pick up Ms Thang from work. Then I had errands to run. Then dinner to cook, house to clean, laundry to do. Holy crap how'd it get to be 3 am?
Time is doing strange things in my mind in this world of sleeplessness. It either drags on and on, or whizzes right by. A quick stop at the drugstore to pick up a single item takes over an hour. I go to the grocery, and I feel like I have spent half the day there, but when I get to the check-out, only 30 minutes has gone by.
I went to a nearby yarn store today. The owner must think I am on drugs or something. I couldn't hold a thought long enough to complete a sentence. But I did score a couple of balls of really nice laceweight yarn! This stuff is almost as fine as spider silk! It looks like a harsh look would break it. It will make good practice for a major project I am planning ... a lace bride's shawl. I have less than 4 months to complete it. First I have to find a pattern, then find the yarn to do it in. Then find the time to do it ... without losing focus! (Ha!) But that has to wait until the bride's dress is chosen, which could possibly happen next Saturday, after the bride's luncheon. Lord willing. Then I can find the right color yarn for the shawl.
I'm tired of school. I have definitely lost my motivation and enthusiasm there, and I have no idea what I am doing anymore. I have decided that Comp Sci ain't where it's at for me. Problem is, I don't know what is. I would go into the Tennessee RODP web developer program, but it's an Associate's level degree and I have no more Pell grant left at that level. Whatever I do, it has to be at the Bachelor's level, and then, I only have 120 hours left. I wonder if I can still get federal loans for lower division classes. I'll have to check into that. But by next fall, I may be living in a box under a bridge ... and owe a crap load of money for student loans!
I am seriously griping at the Knoxville job market. It sucks right now, and I need employment desperately. For a while I was able to find several jobs each week to apply to. Lately, there has been nothing ... other than low wage, entry level crap in food service or retail. I also have the feeling that the manager at my last workplace is giving out bad references, which is totally against policy, and is patently untrue. Her issues with me were purely on a personal level. I am thinking that maybe I should go ahead and contact an attorney. That manager's behavior towards me was reprehensible, and quite possibly illegal. I am still giving that some thought.
Ms Thang celebrated her 18th birthday last week. I no longer have any children ... they are all adults. That's a weird thing to wrap your head around ... I've been a mommy for 23 and a half years, almost my entire adult lifetime. Of course, as we all know, children continue to rely on their parents for support and guidance for a good long while after they attain adulthood. I still call my mom for advice quite often. However, we manage to be able to discuss things without the histrionics that seem inherent in almost any discussion with a teenage girl ... Oy! She isn't sure of what she wants to do. The idea of college causes great distress and anxiety ... the legacy of the damage her father caused, which resulted in severe school phobia, continues to plague her. She remains convinced that she will fail if she tries, and as long as she thinks thusly, it will be so.
I try and try to impress on my children that it is the choices we make that we end up where we do. Once we get there, we cannot go back and undo those choices. We can only go forward ... we can either sit there and cry about it, or get up and dust ourselves off and try to learn and make better choices in the future. Of course, though, that conversation always devolves into more tears and accusations that I am disappointed in her. Whatever. I'm dealing with enough of my own shit, thank you very much, girlie.
Bubba Dude finally obtained his learner's permit and the thought of him behind the wheel of a car still scares me to death. But we have to get him mobile, so he can find work, and hopefully get out on his own. He's been grumping and snarling a lot lately ... again, it's that choice thing. He wants to look like a street thug, with a face full of piercings, oversized clothes to include a butt showing above the waistband of his britches, and t-shirts proclaiming the joys of sex, drugs and rock and roll. Add to this an attitude blacker than pitch, with him smelling of whatever he's been smoking recently ... and he just cannot understand why no one will hire him! Choices, baby ... it's all about the choices!
And the choice I make now is to end this stream of semi-consciousness and go lay in the bed and stare at the ceiling for a while.
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