A fresh cup of Chaos?

Just what I need circling around my head.  A song.  A book bit.  A desire for a candy.  They’re all like earworms that get in, won’t get out, and eventually drive me crazy.

The song won’t leave me alone.  It overlays other items as I’m trying to focus– a book trying to read, a show I’m watching or attempting to level one of the WOW toons.  Over and over the phrase, the music, plays on in my head.

It happens often.  Sometimes the song will drown out what I don’t want to think about or keep me company as I suddenly want to disappear into the woodwork.

It failed me today.

I felt the warmth creeping up my face as my lit/english teacher read the title to last weeks essay.

Could the floor swallow me?  Please.

The first paper read was amazing.  The talent. The vision  The way with words made me think that what I wrote was pure crap.  I knew it.  It could be nothing else.  I hadn’t spent the time on it.

And yet, there was that lame ass title I’d stuck on my paper.  The Road to Me.

The chair wouldn’t allow me to sink any lower.  The floor wouldn’t open up and swallow me whole.  Time wouldn’t fast forward, skip this, get me out of the room and home.

On the paper in front of me, I doodled birds, trees, a duck, flowers, anything that would keep me focused on the paper.  I didn’t want to listen to my words.  Soon, omg, not my paper, why is she reading it aloud found its way to the page.

She read on.  Invisible I wanted to be.  She read the para we have to write after we finish our papers.  My heart seized.  Had I really written that?  Why hadn’t I deleted it?  Why, again, was my writing being singled out?

No answers.  Inside, the terror, not acceptance that maybe I can write and write well.  Maybe, just maybe, the direction I’ve been wandering isn’t to be.  That perhaps, a new road is opening.  A step off the well-traveled path and taking one that isn’t that well known.

And while she reads, Stop and Stare runs over my thoughts, tries to get onto the paper I doodle on.

Don’t stop and stare at me.  I’m trying to disappear.  Not be noticed.  The reading may be blind, without a name, and yet, I swear, the red in my face is announcing my hidden identity.

2 hours later the shock is still running circles around the earworm.  I can’t absorb it.  I can’t let this moment simmer and distill.

It’s too overwhelming.

The coffee doesn’t go in the dishwasher.  Really.  Why did I try to rewarm my coddee there?  If I only had a clue.

Brushing my teeth with a hairbrush?  Won’t that idea sell well?  Didn’t think so.

Yes, it’s Monday and it appears my brain hasn’t survived the weekend.

Reading:  (school) Always Running.  (Fun) Dark Room.

Temp expected today:  70.  It’s been like that all weekend long so that might explain the brain.

Did see Ironman and wow, when can I go back and watch it again?

What’s new?  What silly thing have you done today/this weekend?

The day is overcast.  The furbots are passed out and quiet.

The second seminar paper is printed and ready to go for tomorrow.

And I hate it.

Peer editing remarks:  Love the intro.     Changes:  at this needs to be the.

That’s it.

What the hell?  Can’t they see the ick that is that paper?  The slapped together, I think this is direction I’m heading, and don’t look too closely at the map because it’s not for this road.

But I’m turning it in.  Revising the first one (needs a bit more flesh on the bones) and ramping up for the third.

And I’m loving the process.  Even as I hate the end product (don’t we all hate the book/paper/essay at the end for just a bit?), I’m stewing the third without knowing the topic.  Sick.

The topping on this love/hate festival of rides is yesterday a classmate leans over while our wonderful teacher is talking to a student about attribution.

“Where you here Wednesday?” He shoots me a look while I get the deer in the headlights look.

“No, ends meet middle day.  Didn’t make it.”   I wanted to go that day, my body refused, and that was the day the papers (graded) were handed back.

“She read from two papers.”  My eyes get big, the fear ramps up.  “What we should all be doing with our essays.”  His face is the typical kid in a candy store look.  I’m green around the gills.

“One was mine.”  I beam.  I’m beyond tickled that his paper was chosen.  He’d whipped the paper up the Monday morning it was due.  She liked it.  “Excellent.  I’m tickled for you.”

His grin becomes more wicked.  “She read yours to the class.”

Gulp.  Panic.  Embarrassment.  My stomach hits my feet.  She couldn’t do that to me.  I’m trying to sink down in my chair (damn desks) and disappear.  “Not mine.”

“Yours.”

A bit of happiness creeps in.  I struggled with that paper as well.  Wrote, walked away, growled at it, hovered over delete, and finally, six hours later, with Boy’s eye saying it’s good (he has more MLA training), I put that baby to bed. Not once did I believe it was okay.

So yesterday I ask the teacher if she’s teaching a summer class.  I really want to take another one of her classes.  Her energy is amazing.  Her knowledge.  Her passion for writing.

She isn’t but then she reaches out and taps me on the shoulder.  “This fall, 12:30, I want you in that class.  You do creative writing, don’t you?”

The earlier shock fades to the retirement grounds and I grin.  Oh yeah, I do that.

It’s funny how a moment in time can reawaken a nearly dead spot inside.  I can’t wait until September.  It’s making me reconsider a few things but I’ll figure out how to get that class on my schedule.

I want to write again even if it’s a struggle.

Happy Tuesday!    Got any good news to share?

another paper waiting to get peer edited.

Wow, how fast the days past to this point. It doesn’t seem like 12 days since the last editing/seminar session. But then again, I have momsheimers.

The weather is turning nicer and it’s calling me outside to do something.  No wait.  I think I’d rather curl up and read or maybe level a druid/lock on WOW.  Or maybe write?

What’s on your list of things to do today?

The paper survived the teachers.  Woohoooo!  Woot with a side oh yeah.  Laugh like crazy.

Out of 30 points possible, 25 were given.  Yippeee.

Now for the hard part.  Go back over that paper and see where I made mistakes and take that knowledge with me as I begin Paper Two– still not dying.  That one presents on Wednesday.

Must locate my themes, craft my paper and tie it all together while doing the Spring looks like it is here dance.  At least there isn’t snow on the ground.

Bite my tongue.  It might snow now.  Shudder.

Reading:  Discovered a new to me author.  Terri Persons.  I picked up Blind Spot and haven’t been able to put it down.  Well, at least until homework rears it’s beastly head and demands I put the book away.  Now that I’ve discovered a new books is coming from her, I’m happier.

Weather:  because I’m hoping it turns nicer, and not colder.  Really.  44 degrees.  I think I miss 70 degrees.

Plans for the weekend:  shh, housework, homework, living and giggling.  That’s the plan.  How much do you want to bet that’s not going to happen.  LOL.

Other than that it’s just soccer practice/games, track pratice/events and Mother! I need a crosage for the prom THIS WEEKEND!

Yup.  Just another day of juggling chaos.

Where’s my coffee cup?

Plans?  Happenings?  Goals to meet this weekend?  Grab a cup of coffee and have a bit of a break with me.

It’s snowing outside.

The 21st of April and it’s snowing.

Fighting the urge to go crawl back into bed and read instead of the dance of learning. 

What would you do today if you could?

Sorry about the dead air.  Got busy.  Funny how that happens.  (wink)  Then I realized the laundry was taking over the house.  It had conspired with the dust bunnies now the size of large dogs and possibly rabid.  I found the hiding spots (under the couch having a party), under the chair (headquarters for the revolt), and finally, under a table talking about taking over the dogs.

Now the laundry is being beaten into shape.  The former rabid mutant bunnies are banished.  And all I have left to do is read the first 28 pages of Elie Wiesel’s Night.

What made my weekend.  The first version of what you don’t want to see.

Walked towards the stove, why I can’t recall, and what do I see?  Smoke pouring out of the vent.

OMG.  I whipped that door open to see the donut box considering ignition.  I called The Man and pulled the smelly item from the oven.

Then I laughed my ass off.

Now I know why I don’t like storing the donuts in the oven.  No one looks before they warm it up.

Happy weekend!

Seen anything lately you didn’t expect to see?

Seminar day.

Presenting my essay that would not die.

Gulp.

See the fear?  Why didn’t I take a normal Eng 201 class again?  LOL

Anything you aren’t looking forward to today?  I know The Pam will be sad to wave bye-bye to Mini for the day unless she’s taking the cute thing with her. 

Happy Thursday.

Snores surround me.  At least I think it’s more than one snoring.  But no, it’s only Queen B doing her mid-afternoon snooze as close as she can get to me.

It makes reformatting the essay that refuses to die (oops, not APA but MLA, me. Whap!) quite the chore.  Such music is rather relaxing.  Isn’t it?  Wait.  No. Sleep.  Must.  Re-format.

Then begin work on Friday’s blog for school, take two followed by creating a new paper for Monday.

Rodent wheel met me.

I am a rodent on a wheel (whell?) this week.  At least I’m not currently chasing my own tail through the house like one cat, Tuki, is thanks to a random sunbeam.  He’s got more energy in his elderly body than I do this week.

Spring fever must hit the lower to the ground creatures first.  Sound good?

Reading:  Just finished Embrace the Night by Karen Chance.  Hated to see that one end.  Dithered at the pile of doom (aka books of too many choices) and finally, one stuck to my hand.  Flesh and Bone by Jefferson Bass is now whispering read me, you must read me as I inch closer to cracking open a document to re-format.

Weather:  Hey, look, no snow.  41 degrees.  Almost bathing suit weather, don’t ya think?  Brrr.  Snow expected tonight.  See the happiness on my face?  Really.  Didn’t buy that?  Didn’t think so.

Next memoir for class (you know you want to know what I’m going to be reading, crafting another paper or two from…..insane laughter) is:  Night by Elie Wiesel.  I’m looking forward to that one.  I think.

Movie in house I can’t wait to see but must until Boy gets off his can’t watch tv/movies/txt/email self-imposed blackout. is Juno.  The exile ends Tuesday.  If the two brain cells in my head were equally caffeinated, I might know the reason for this.   But alas, those two cells aren’t talking today.  (wink)

How was your Tuesday?  Do anything neat, fun?  Discover a new author, music or movie you want to spread the word about?

What’s your favouritest (yes, new word that doesn’t live in a dictionary but I hear often) food right now?

Happy Wednesday…. since I keep thinking it’s Tuesday, still.

Keep falling on my head.  Drip, drip, and look, another drip.

Weather:  47 with light rain.   If that’s light, I’d hate to see heavy.  There are puddles.  Again.  One the bright side, at least the snow if retreating under the onslaught of liquid snow.

Monday.  A day I normally enjoy because the crew of minions have fled the house, the cats are comatose, and the dogs are camped out waiting the return to their children.

All that changed when I decided to return to school (where’s the big word I wanted?  Damn brain.  On vacation again.) and screwed up my sanity or serenity.

Yet, I’m still finding the day to be a good one.  Odd.  Yes.  Very.

In a few hours, that essay gets reviewed.  My squirrel brain is running at full speed imaging what might happen followed by a good case of omg, what have I done.

If that doesn’t make you laugh, I don’t know what will.  I need a good laugh and Boy has forbidden me to share one of his tales that made me sound like a ‘barking seal’ as I laughed so very hard.

Now if I could just remember Dawg’s joke about the magician.

What’s on your list of things to do today?