A few things that I have managed to get done over the past four days:
- Went to Meineke. Spent two hours there. Got the car air conditioner fixed. It was broken because of something to do with a fuse and a condenser fan and pressure and a loss of Freon. I think the gremlins did it.
- Fought a valiant battle against the fleas using heavy artillery, e.g. the expensive vet stuff. This seems to be having some effect, though I am now suffering from a severe case of psychosomatic itching. Anyone know what to take for that?
- Allowed maintenance into my apartment, voluntarily, for the first time since I moved in. As I had a whole list of things to be fixed, it was a rather productive thing to do. And the maintenance man bought me lunch. Still – I dislike allowing anyone into my apartment when it is less than pristine, and as such, I spent most of Saturday and part of Sunday evening cleaning.
- Had Monkey Boy Chaos for homeschooling. Considered throttling Monkey Boy Chaos. It was not a good morning. I lost my temper and got snippy. I yelled at the dog. The Boy wouldn’t listen. Tomato sauce got on my chair. But I did get Dave’s fabulous alfredo for dinner as a reward for not killing the boy. Not that I’d do that. I love him. Most of the time. The little monster.
- Took an economics exam. Didn’t like it much. Think I missed a question on percentages.
- Did approximately 1239532 loads of laundry.
- Read lots of blogs. I’m not sure this counts as getting anything done. But I did it. I certainly did it.
As you can see, it’s been a busy few days. But not to worry. Soon, I shall go back to my old habit of doing nothing but languishing on my sofa. Probably sooner than I ought to. Really, I think I’m going though one of Erikson’s Eight Stages a bit early – Generativity vs. Stagnation. My desire to get things done is having a battle with my desire to curl up and watch Friends reruns.
Okay. So maybe that isn’t… exactly… what Erikson meant by Generativity vs. Stagnation. And maybe I’m not even in that stage of life yet, and won’t be for another 15 years. And maybe my underwear is black today.
Not that that has anything to do with anything.
I’m in a weird mood tonight.
The truth is, I’m currently torn between my extreme need for a real vacation and my longing to get back to my UT. I realize, in hindsight, that taking so many classes this summer was a mistake. I realize that not actually taking a break between a 15 hour semester and an 18 hour semester was probably a very bad idea. I realize that the last time I had any extended period of time off was Christmas.
As I’ve mentioned before, I’m a bit jealous of all of the places that my friends have gone this summer. But more than that, I’m jealous of the time off they’ve had. More than once in the past few weeks, I’ve considered getting in my car and just driving – driving ANYWHERE. Driving to Missouri to see Janet. Driving to the beach. Maybe Bowlegs, Oklahoma. Just cause.
Of course, because the air conditioner wasn’t working and this is, after all, Texas, I never made it much farther than Lockhart. And last time I was there, I ended up with a stomach bug, which made it much less enjoyable.
All I’m really looking for here is a little time to sit down and read, write, or simply do nothing – without having a test date in the back of my mind.
Of course, I know how miserable I generally am when I don’t have about eight thousand projects. But really. I think I need to remind myself of this misery. You know. So I don’t seek it out again in the future.
On the other hand, I find myself desperately missing UT. Not that there is anything wrong with ACC, mind you, but Economics, Government, and online classes in Sociology and Psychology aren’t doing a whole lot to stimulate me. Even when I’m drowning in work at UT, I love that I am being forced to think and be creative. I’m so excited about my schedule this fall that I want to turn cartwheels.
I should mention that, this fall, I’m taking 18 hours of classes, including a 6-hour intensive Russian class.
But I know the classes will be both challenging and entertaining. What’s even weirder though, is that I’m looking forward to being back on campus. I’m actually starting to miss the people. I know. I KNOW. Bobbi doesn’t do people. Bobbi is chronically anti-social.
That isn’t entirely true though. My friend Eric will be back from Germany soon. Erica just recently returned from Croatia. I’m taking a Research Methods class with a friend I made during orientation, Jill. She wasn’t in any of my classes last Spring, and I found that I really missed her.
Despite my best efforts, I’ve developed… relationships. It’s strange.
I miss being on campus with all sorts of places to go and just be.
I will, of course, go back to hating campus as soon as I start trying to park there again. If not then, when I go to the Union or the FAC and find that there are no places to sit because, well, there are 50,000 students at this school.
Still, I look forward to getting back to school – to MY school. Because honestly? I’m bored stiff with the classes I’m taking.
That’s it, really. I’m having an internal battle between being so tired that I don’t want to do anything, and being so bored that I want to add about twelve more things to my schedule. Or, perhaps, just sleep for the remainder of the summer.
In other news… there isn’t very much other news. Oh – wait.
I spent rather a lot of time in my economics class today worrying about the possibility that my maintenance man was a serial killer.
I like my maintenance man. He’s nice. He bought me lunch today. I had a lovely and pleasant conversation. But clearly, I have been watching too much Criminal Minds. And with my penchant for overreaction and irrational thought, by the time I was getting ready to leave for class, I was starting to wonder things like: why did my maintenance man know that the rifle in my closet is a .22 caliber? Why did my maintenance man buy me lunch and talk to me when I am so obviously not a a social creature? Why was my maintenance man so friendly?
The answer to these questions, by the way, is that 1. It isn’t hard to tell what a .22 caliber rifle looks like, and that 2. My maintenance man is nice. And friendly.
Did I mention I actually like my maintenance man? And that I feel guilty for considering the fact that he might be a cleverly disguised serial killer?
My response to these questions was to go off on a string of irrational thinking that included such thoughts as: He made friends with Cooper, and now Cooper will let him into the apartment without trying to kill him. He knows where I keep my gun. He knows that one of the locks on my sliding glass door is broken. Oh yeah, and he’s maintenance. So he has a key. (I don’t know that I even THOUGHT about that at the time.)
Clearly, the threat was there. He might sneak into my apartment and hide in my shower so that he could kill me later.
I hid my rifle. And stalked my shower with a baseball bat when I got home.
Obviously, I am still alive.
And really, find the whole thing very funny.
Which means, I think, that I need to get out more.