Earlier this week I got an email that congratulated me on the progress I’ve made on various projects lately and told me that I was doing great. Well, yesterday morning I wasn’t really feeling it. I was exhausted.
My friend and interim supervisor asked me to assist him with a two-part information literacy session (i.e. teaching people how to use the library) that he was conducting for a group of music education graduate students. He would lead the sessions and I would be his wing woman, throwing my two cents worth in here and there and assisting the students with their searches. I was pleased to be asked and happy to help, but it forced me to deal with some of my old crap. There were leftover issues from my brief, painful teaching career as well as the I-don’t-know-everything-there-is-to-know-so-I-can’t-stand-up-here-and-pretend-that-I-do junk, also known as I’m Afraid of Looking Stupid Syndrome. Working through heavy stuff like this always wears me out. The first part of the class was Tuesday night and it went really well. I was feeling pretty good about it, but I was tired.
Yesterday I woke up kinda early and decided that I needed more sleep so I closed the bedroom door to keep the cat out and went back to bed. After many desperate “please feed me because I am gonna starve, I haven’t eaten in HOURS” cat noises, I finally got up two hours later. I quickly discovered that the cat had used the floor of the study as a litter box. I’m in the process of removing wallpaper and prepping the walls for painting so there is plastic on that floor and the kitty gets confused if I leave him unattended with the study door open. (So you see it was actually my fault for leaving the door open in my earlier sleepiness, but I wasn’t seeing it that way at first.) I was mad and sure that the cat had done this because he was mad at me for not getting out of bed and filling his bowl. I told him that I was mad at him and it would take me a few minutes to stop being mad at him and I sent him outside. The poor baby stood at the glass backdoor screaming for his breakfast while I fed the dog. I let him in after a couple of minutes, but I was still mad. It didn’t last long though; I mean how can you be mad at this face?
Everyone being fed, I set in to going through my morning rituals. I was feeling grumpy and crabby. The journal writing, morning reading, etc helped a little, but I wasn’t feeling all enlightened and wonderful. I was in a bad mood.
Cut to 12:40ish pm. I was on my way to campus. My first objective of the day was to meet the professor who is teaching the Introduction to Library and Information Science course that I am planning to take in the fall. She was going to sign my tuition waiver form. I wanted to make a good first impression so I was trying to talk myself into being all pleasant and happy – to be myself, in other words, and to send the grumpies packing. I decided that a yummy, healthy, fruity, smoothie might help cheer me up and I had just enough time to stop for one. (Note to self – having “just enough” time almost, always gets me into trouble.) Of course at 12:40 in the afternoon people with “normal” work schedules are out to lunch and the almost-uppity shopping center where the smoothie shop is was packed with cars. I was having some difficulty finding a parking space. I saw one – between 2 mini-vans - not too far from my destination. When I drove up to it there was already a small car in there. Man, was that ever aggravating! I said out loud well, fruity, farty, pooty, wooty, doody. And that is when I completely cracked myself up. I mean, what kind of cursing is that! I’m a 35-year-old woman who lets words fly with the best of ‘em!! One of my favorite ways to curse is to string a bunch of four letter words together, but what is this nonsense? While I was whooping it up in the car alone I decided that this day was gonna be just fine (and it was). And the lesson learned, boys and girls? As long as I can laugh hilariously at myself then I really am doing great!