Slices of Stacy

Existential drama or allergies?

I went back to check: it's been three years since I wrote about depression.  Three years since I've felt this feeling.  I was going to have a massive self-pity party, but you know what?  Three years is a pretty goddamn long time to go between major bouts of depression.  Fuckin' A, man... I rule.

Anyway.

The grass pollen allergies hit pretty hard right after school let out and I spent a week with wicked sinus headaches.  I've still got this heaviness feeling, like there's an anvil on my chest.  I have no energy.  I want to sleep all the time.  I feel... blank.  Hopeless and blank.  Could be sinusitis.

Could be something else.

Three years since that entry means it's been three years on Effexor.  Probably time for a med adjustment.  Time to go back to New Shrink.  Find out what's at the bottom of this.

The best bet right now is fear and anxiety.  I've jumped through all the hopes required of me (except student teaching) to get my degree.  I'm staring down a barrel at graduation, in December.  After that I have some choices to make.  Do I get a job in my current county?  If I do that, it'll be three years until I can transfer to another school within the same county.  I think I know where I want to land after graduation.  What if that doesn't work out?  I can make decent money as a certified sub.  Maybe I should just sub all spring while I take some time to figure out what I want.

Not to mention the fact that this isn't like a normal job: I'll be signing a contract.  I can't just give my two weeks' notice if I hate it.  And the responsibility?  Suddenly I'm realizing that the Governor hasn't got SHIT on a teacher in terms of responsibility.  I'll have my own classroom!  And be responsible for the education and general mental well-being of 20 or so children.  ME.  The one who has spent the majority of her employed hours in a cubicle somewhere, phoning it in and playing Solitaire all day if I want to.

I won't be able to phone it in anymore.  I won't be able to fake it.

The good news is that I am very, very good at what I do.  Maybe I need to gather all my supervised lesson observation reports over the last couple of semesters and re-read them.  I can do this.  And I don't have to figure out all the answers today. 

In the meantime, I need to call the Doctor.  Need to talk about modifying meds.  Need to be very, very gentle with myself for a while.  It's been a long five years since I went back to school.  It's been a long road.  It's probably really okay to be completely overwhelmed right now.

BUT...

...I got my new handbag and wristlet from Seabreeze Studios and call me shallow, people, but nothing cheers a girl up like a new purse.  Especially one similar to this one and a wristlet like this.  Yukiko rocks and I highly recommend her stuff.  DJ got me a  small messenger bag and iPod pouch for Christmas and I love them.  She's got all sorts of fabulous fabrics and these are my new bags of choice. 

...my car was fine to Athens and back.

...we totally rocked our presentation.  Afterwards people stopped me in the elevator to congratulate us.

...I got a perfect score on my Algebra midterm.

...I got to stalk Mo Willems just a little bit and flirt with Ian Ogilvy (honestly, Brits are shameful flirts) and babble meaninglessly to Brian Pinkney about how much his work means to me as a teacher in a county that is 68% African-American and just generally make a fool of myself.

So, y'know... you take the good, you take the bad, you take them both...

AND...

...my hairstylist has the flu so I can't get a haircut before the conference.

AND I failed my Algebra quiz.

AND I was concerned about the zit that was developing on my left cheek before the presentation so I picked at it and picked at it and now it's visible from space.

Xanax and Kleenex, people.

Hamster on a Wheel

I have three midterms this week and am presenting at a conference this weekend.  Today I found out that in addition to the section of the presentation I'm doing, I'm responsible for the entire introduction.  And the Powerpoint presentation.  And the customized graphics.  AND I'm having my first observation in my field placement on Wednesday.  AND yesterday my car started to overheat.  AND the conference is in Athens.  Spring break is next week -- if my car can just hang on that long, I can take it in.  In the meantime, I'm looking into car rentals for a 1 1/2 hour drive.  Other people are going and I could ride with them, but I can't figure out a way to get up to school on Thursday (after half a day of placement) that doesn't involve rolling my gigantic suitcase with me all over campus to two of said midterms.

Send Xanax.

Reports of my death have been slightly exaggerated

I have the flu.  Not a cold, not even a bad cold -- the flu.  Influenza.  103+ degree fevers, chills, throwing up, headache, the whole she-bang.  ("She bangs! She bangs!" It would appear that my current fever has not, in fact, quite left me yet if I can still make Ricky Martin/William Hung references).

That's not the total reason for my absence, of course -- that's just the last 36 or so hours.  We'll see what Tamiflu does for the situation.  The main reason is that I'm just having a hard time this semester.  My placement is challenging.  My course load, which is front-loaded this semester, is completely kicking my ass.  I'm just not having the same glorious experience I did last semester and I'm not dealing with it very well.

The good news?  It's finally starting to rain here in Georgia.  And even the flu doesn't last forever.

pneumosinusstreptomono

I'm sick, Internet.  Happy freakin' New Year.

I hate New Year's Eve and always have.  First of all there's the enforced fun:  Fun Must Be Had! There Must Be Drinking And Merriment!  No room for a bad party here, folks -- it's serious pressure.  You must have FUN of the capital kind.  Second, there's the expectation that something magical will occur at the stroke of midnight.  Somehow, at 12:01am I will be able to quit smoking, stay on my diet, etc. in a way that wasn't possible just a minute or two before.

Also, I hate the fireworks because they make my dog nervous and he hovers about my feet and THANKS TO THE FEVER I'M HOT ENOUGH OH MY GOD GET OFF ME.

The sickness started with some hay fever symptoms.  I thought it was because we'd brought home the school guinea pig for the break.  I don't think I'm allergic to the pig itself, I've never tested positive for animal allergies.  However, I have tested positive for grass allergies and the pig has this aspen bedding and eats timothy hay. 

Then, on Christmas Day, I was exposed to strep and mono.  On Saturday morning I woke up barely able to move.  Feverish almost to the point of delirium, I spent almost the whole day sleeping.  Sunday saw me sitting upright for about four hours.  Today, however, the sinus part has hit.  Every time I sneeze, cough or move, my cerebral cortex slams up against the side of my skull, making me wish for sweet, sweet death.  Every time I blow my nose my neck and back hurt.  My lungs have filled with fluid and every time  I do manage to fall asleep, between the lungs and the nasal congestion I have horrible nightmares that I'm drowning and wake up gasping for air. 

In short, I am miserable.

And has one single person stroked my head and said, "Poor little bunny..."? 

iHappy

I'm writing this while listening to my BRAND NEW 80 GIG IPOD.

Which I have because my Math professor tapes us every week and puts the videos up to be watched.  We need something to watch them with, so he talked the Tech Center folks into loaning everyone in our class an 80 Gig iPod.

Naturally, the moment I got it, I opened it up, photographed it with my Razr and sent it to DJ. 

Naturally, he wanted to know why the hell I needed an iPod for math class.

Naturally, I responded, "Who gives a rat's ass?  I HAVE AN 80 GIG IPOD UNTIL DECEMBER 3!"

Does this look infected to you?

Walking out to the bus stop on Friday afternoon, I put ten years of dance lessons to good use by tripping over my own feet.  Naturally, my first thought upon hitting the pavement was "Oh God, did my Razr shatter?"  Fortunately, I managed to send my phone spinning onto the grass.  Trooper that I am, I continued on to the bus stop but paused to take a photo of my right knee (I also landed on my left wrist and twisted my left ankle) to send to DJ.

Photos after the jump.  Don't say I didn't warn you...

Hitting the bottom of the blog fodder barrel

Rex barks at the precise pitch that makes our doorbell spontaneously ring.  Weird, huh?  At this point, we don't even check it anymore, so if you come to my house you'll have to knock.

Driving and striving and hugging the turns

I had to take a break in my Geometry-study frenzy to go see New Shrink today.  (Q:  When does New Shrink lose his newness?)  Not surprisingly, the main topic of conversation was "Why Stacy Believes That Getting a 'B' is the End of Life as We Know It." 

I was a mediocre student from third grade on.  Not coincidentally, that is when my stepfather began molesting me.  You can see the change in my elementary school photos.  Second grade I'm all gap-toothed, messy-haired grin.  Third grade Stacy has guarded eyes and a sad smile.  Nobody thought to wonder, I guess, why my grades suddenly dropped.

Low grades or not, I ended up in the 'Gifted' program, which didn't have a teacher so it was just me and a few of my friends sitting around the library (no 'media center' back in my day, nosirree, we went to the LIBRARY and we LIKED IT) talking about why KISS was the best band ever.  Even then I felt as though the administration of my school was blowing sunshine up my ass with the whole 'gifted' thing.  No matter how many times I was told I was smart, (and dear Jesus on a cracker, I was told I was smart-just-not-applying-herself so many times I wanted to stab myself in the ear) I never really bought into it. 

I'm considering taking the Stanford-Binet, just for shits and giggles.

I'm not sure why I drive myself so hard when it comes to grades.  I have to keep my GPA above 3.0 in order to keep my HOPE scholarship but with my current 3.8, I don't need to sweat that.  Yes, I want to get into a Master's program, which means I need a decent GPA.  But I end up with tension headaches before every test.  I study for hours and the little part that I don't know feels like it's growing exponentially until it looms over me like a dark cloud.  A cloud with pointy edges and lightning and stuff.

Maybe getting good grades, working my ass off, is my penance for having the audacity to quit my job (two years ago, y'all, can you believe it?) and put our finances into a permanent state of Fucked.  Maybe this is that age-old 'I'm not worthy' crap again.  Gah.  Am so sick of myself. 

It was suggested to me today that I lack perspective.  Apparently I should be trying to remember that this is just one test in one class in one semester.  I killed the person that told me that and ate her liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti.

And then I went back to the Euclidean Postulates.