Queen of Rambles

Thank you to everyone who commented on my last entry. As always, you fabulous people were right–I am doing important work. I’m shaping a life as I see fit to shape it. I need to remember that. I also need to remember that I can’t be perfect and that he can’t be perfect. You know one reason I hated teaching? No matter how finely honed a lesson I had planned, I couldn’t make every single student sit and listen and be engaged and learn something. I always thought my classes were out of control, but then I had to share a classroom my last year and learned that my classes were actually ruled by a very tight fist. I have no ability to accurately judge my own success or failures.

I really need to set aside X number of hours each week and concentrate on freelance writing. I know I wouldn’t be raking in the dough, but I do believe I could contribute a little to our household finances and enjoy the work as well. I’ve done so much reading on the subject that it’s overwhelming to Just Do It and get started. I need a swift kick in the ass to get me started.

Today I went from angry at the world to mopey at myself. Instead of wanting to stab someone in the eyeball I wanted to pull out all my hair or lay on the bed and cry. A massage sounded nice, except that I hate people touching me. A nice, long bath would have been divine. I tried a bath, but a half-filled, lukewarm tub with a wiggly baby who might poop on me is not relaxing. MisterE had fun, at least.

I should be happy. The moms’ group I’m in is reorganizing the the ladies who are taking over e-mailed me and asked me if I would join them as a co-moderator. They like me! They really like me! I said yes and sat in on a conference call with them all today. I should have been happy that I was respected and listened to. Instead I felt like they were just letting me join out of pity. I know that is emphatically NOT TRUE. Again, my perceptions are skewed.

I REALLY wish I lived near Heather and Ellen and Ally and Beverly and Brenda and all my many other friends with children or who will have kids one day. We’d have the best playgroup ever with no drama because we are all too cool and mature for the silly drama. Plus we all know we’d be snarked on in everyone else’s journal if we acted weird.

I think if I get a haircut and a brow wax things will start looking up. My bangs touch the top of my lips (other than the really special little bit that was shaved when I had my bumpectomy). Working out with bangs in your mouth is not fun. I occasionally catch a glimpse of my hair on my pillow or on my shoulder and it gives me the major heebie-jeebies. Ever since I was teaching and had students with hairspray dandruff I can’t stand the look of long hair. I’m tired of having short hair, but do I really want to see dead strings laying on my pillow?

This entry was posted on Wednesday, September 20th, 2006 at 7:55 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.