Keeping Up

I am only posting because the month is nearly over, and all of last year I posted at least once per month, and I would be unnecessarily upset with myself if I broke that off now.

It is not that I do not have anything about which to write: I do! But I do not have time. Ever. I might get to have a full night's sleep again after the summer quarter is over. Perhaps. But right now, the semester is only just begun (we are currently in the middle of the third week, and only the second week of clinic, so the first barely counted, really) and I am running on empty. I do not know if I can keep this up.

I talked about this feeling with one of my clinical supervisors today. Some people do not like her, but she is one of my favorites because she is blunt. If she thinks you have said something stupid, she will let you know, and that is good for me sometimes. I could not handle it if everyone was that way, but having her tends to be beneficial. I was talking about how I did not know if I could make it another year. She told me to stop thinking about it like that.

"Say, 'I can make it through the end of February'," she said to me. I sighed.
"I can make it through the end of next week...I think," I replied.
She gave me a look. "I can make it through tomorrow," I said decisively.

There are lots of things I want to write about, to tell you about. At the top of my list is some half-formed thoughts about life lessons learned from children's literature, specifically Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle. But she shall have to wait, because I have already spent more time that I have available on this post.

Blessings on your travels,
Emily.

Five Things

One: Facebook tells me that today is Josh's birthday. My engagement calendar tells me that Wednesday the ninth is. I am not sure which to believe. My impulse is to believe my engagement calendar, because I have had friends who put down false dates for various reasons. Of course, I do not know why Josh would do that. I also do not know why I would have the wrong date written down. I am more likely to make a mistake about this than Josh is, though. Happy birthday, dear friend.

Two: I have seven school days left until the end of the semester. In that time, I have two days of classes (though only one left of research methods. and the people rejoiced.), two sessions of clinic, one session of APD diagnostics, two final exams, two final projects, and one final presentation. I feel much less overwhelmed than one might expect from that list. I actually feel that that is adequate time for everything and that all will be well at the end of this next week and a half. I certainly am looking forward to break, though.

Three: I am frustrated at my Dad and his constant refusal to try new or unfamiliar things, especially food. "Oh I love Thai food! But I do not like peanut sauce. Or coconut milk. Or curry." "Well, Mexican's all right when your mom makes it," (which means chicken burritos) "but I do not really like Mexican restaurant food." Gah. I love trying new foods and it makes me upset when he will not.

Four: It is freaking cold here, and I miss California. I am all for winter, and snow. But right now it is too cold and too dry to snow, so it is mostly just miserable and windy.

Five: A coworker wants to set me up with another coworker (whom I have met once). I am not sure how I feel about this.

Blessings on your travels,
Emily.

It is good that I love my job.

I had a hellish day yesterday. It seems that every time I think that things are evening out and looking up, everything crashes down again. I do not want to post all the details, but essentially I got pulled out by two professors during lunch and told that I am unteachable, have anger and confrontation issues, and that I will not make it in the professional world. Needless to say, it was a lovely conversation full of fluffy bunnies and rainbows and butterflies. And lots of tears and stuttering, too, but that is usually a given with me. So it destroyed pretty much my entire day.

And then I had to go to work at five thirty.

I was not looking forward to it. After my lunchtime discussion I nearly called in and told them I was sick. But I went.

And, wonder of wonders, it made me feel better. Because I love my job. I love the store itself, I love being surrounded by books, I love the music, I love my coworkers and managers, I love (most of) our customers, I love that I get fifty percent off items in the cafe (hot cocoa for a dollar and thirty cents? yes, please!), I even love straightening up at the end of the night.

I realized again last night how grateful I am not not be at Albertson's anymore. It would have destroyed me to have had to go work in the deli last night. I probably would not have made it through. But being at Barnes and Noble gave me energy and some happiness where I had none.

Praise God for small reliefs such as that.

Blessings on your travels,
Emily.

As Insanity Plateaus

Just a quick update, tonight. Life keeps on going, as it is wont to do. I have settled into what seems to be a good routine. I am finally used to my class/clinic schedule (half-way through the semester), and getting a decent amount of sleep. I love clinic so much, which is encouraging as that is what I plan to be doing for the majority of the rest of my life. I wish I could talk more about clinic, but HIPPA forbids it, so I shall refrain.

I also love my job. It has been a long time since I have been able to say that, and it feels wonderful to be able to do so. For I while I said I loved Albertson's, but that was more of a reaction against ICT than affection for the job itself, and I was really fairly miserable there. But Barnes and Noble! I still get giddy when I think about it. Sometimes I will be there, at night, straightening books on the shelf, and just start giggling, uncontrollable happiness welling up inside of me. It has been a long time since I really enjoyed what I am doing, and it feels nice to have that again.

Acclimating to my schedule also means I now have a tiny bit more free time than I have in the past few weeks. I get to go see Where the Wild Things Are with Glennda tomorrow, and I am incredibly excited about it. It was a defining book of my childhood, and I have only heard good things about it so far. Also, spending time with Glennda is the best part of being in Spokane, so tomorrow evening is doubly lovely for that reason.

I am looking ahead more and more, trying to figure out where my life is headed, where I am going to end up, even just for my hospital internship. I will be applying at hospitals in the Seattle area and the LA area. I think I would be happy in either place - I just do not want to be stuck here. It is still a while out, but planning is a good thing.

I had a good talk with a dear friend last week about healing. It is a difficult thing. I think I will write more on that, later.

Blessings on your travels,
Emily.

Missing Torrey

This week I got an email from a professor:

"Congratulations, you earned one of the top four scores on Exam 1 in Neuropath. Nice work!"

This email was addressed to three people (including myself).

...

I miss Torrey folk, with whom I could have had an amusing, nerdy moment.

Blessings on your travels,
Emily.

Why I Am Absent

School is horribly hectic. I have very long days, and a lot of reading and preparation work. I also started clinic last week, which is fun but very very time-consuming. I also started my new job last week, which is wonderful. However, during my application and interview process, it was established that I was looking for twelve to fifteen hours per week; this week I was scheduled for twenty-three. So. That was fun. I had a chat with the scheduling manager tonight, and he apologized and said that he did not realize he had scheduled me for so many hours, and would be sure to keep it around fifteen in the future. But still, fifteen hours is a lot of time. Occasionally I eat and sleep, though not as often or as much as I should. Somewhere in my insane schedule I need to get the second part of my two-step TB test (sounds much more like a dance than it really is), and find some time to get to the chiropractor (I have not been in two weeks. I am in pain, but have had no time to go. Bad things.) On top of school work I have (a lot of) reading for my catechism class that I need to get done, as well as church services Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday evenings in addition to Sunday mornings. I am taking the bus to school, which means that I have to leave my house an hour and fifteen minutes before my eight o'clock class starts (luckily I can be a morning person if needed, and riding the bus allows me a bit of reading time). It also means that I am on a tight schedule for how long I can hang around the school getting things done after class or clinic is over.

So.

I am sure that you can understand why I have not written to inform you about how my graduate studies are going, or how my clients are, or whether I am enjoying my new job. I am hopeful that things will settle down after another week or so (I have two exams next week for which I have not yet begun to study), and then perhaps I will be able to catch up with people.
Be assured, I miss you, and would love to talk. I am sorry I do not have time to do so, but this too shall pass, however painfully (like a kidney stone).

And all will be well.

On Starting Again

My orientation for my graduate program starts in an hour.
I am excited and nervous and scared to death.

...

I was going to write more, but that about sums it up, and I do not think I can put the rest of my thoughts and emotions into words right now.

Blessings on your travels,
Emily

"The Lazy Bloggers Post Generator"

Goodness Gracious I just had a cup of tea and realized I haven't updated this since Paris Hilton was in jail... You wouldn't believe that my hands were chopped off and I was waiting for bionic ones. I prostrate myself in sorrow and beg thy forgiveness..

I'm flat out with sleeping my way to the top, learning to speak Japanese, just generally being a terrible burden to my local police, my day starts with the dawn patrol from sun-up to dusk. I'm beyond drunk most of the time. I need some perspective.

I hope you're having a good life if one more person emails me to ask why I haven't posted today I'll start posting pictures of toe fungus, or fecal murals. You have my word! Unless of course the pool with the cocktail bar is heated!.

All right, hopefully the absurdity of that, combined with the atrocious grammar and rampant punctuation errors, as well as the flagrant use of contractions, made you realize that I did not actually write that. And...none of it is true, except for the "I just had a cup of tea" part. In fact, I also had two delicious chocolate-chocolate-chip cookies. The bit above was courtesy of The Lazy Bloggers Post Generator, which actually takes longer than some of my posts do to write. But it was amusing, and that is what is important to me. Take a look, be amused.

Working at the deli continues to be better than answering phones for Sprint. I hope that I can get out of there soon, though. I keep checking back at Barnes and Noble - they tell me they are going to have some openings soon. Working in a bookstore is pretty much my dream part-time-while-in-school job. In fact, I was thinking about this earlier, and I think that if I were not on a career path that I am very excited about and know I will love, I would not mind working in a bookstore long-term. I love bookstores. I love books. I love people who love books. So hopefully that will work out.

My parents are going over to Seattle this weekend, for my cousin's wedding on Saturday. It will be nice to have a good stretch of alone time. I was worried that my dad would decide to not go, but everything is moving forward as planned, and they are leaving at six or seven tomorrow morning. I am tired of living with my parents, but it really is the best option for me right now, financially. It is allowing me to save some money, and I hope that that will result in my being able to pay of my student loans more quickly after I am out of school. Of course, that all depends on my not going insane from living with them. My sanity is ever up in the air, so we shall see how that goes. Time alone will be very good.

There is more, but not for tonight.

Blessings on your travels,
Emily

Sign, Sign, Everywhere a Sign

Whatever happened to "Read a good book this summer!" or "Have fun and be safe!" on school reader-boards? For the month leading up to Independence Day, the reader-board on the middle school I drive by on my way to work read, "Fireworks are Illegal. $513 fine in Spokane." At first I laughed, but in retrospect, it makes me sort of sad. Yes, fireworks are illegal in Spokane County. Yes, we can get them very easily because we are about twenty minutes from Idaho. Yes, middle-schoolers probably should not play with fireworks even if they were not illegal. But is it the responsibility of the school to warn them against that? Is such a warning even effective? I feel like the kids who are likely to acquire and play with fireworks are the ones who are also likely, in general, to do whatever the school says not to do. Signs like this seem to me to, at worst, aggravate the problem, or, at best, have no effect whatsoever. I very much prefer those signs which encourage good behavior, not discourage negative. After all, while the message is essentially the same, "Read Read Read" or "Have fun in the Sun!" are much nicer than "Stop being a couch potato!" or "TV rots your brain!"

Blessings on your travels,
Emily

Why Do I Not Write More?

That is a very good question. I do not know. But I am writing now, and that is what matters, right?

I quit my job at ICT/Sprint on Friday. It was a wonderful day. I had originally planned to work my Friday shift (six to two). Then on Thursday I decided I would leave at ten (lunchtime). Then Thursday evening I decided I just needed to quit. So I went in at six on Friday and did just that. I had given them about a week-and-a-half notice, so it was all right. It would have been all right even if I had not given notice, as it was an at-will position.

I am working for Albertsons now, in the service deli. I am at the south hill location (on thirty-seventh and Grand, if you wanted particulars. or even if you did not.) which is a bit of a commute. Also it does not pay as much, and I will probably not have as many hours, but these things are worth being done with Sprint forever. I had my "training-which-is-really-an-introduction-to-the-company" day on Saturday, and I have my "training-which-is-really-listening-to-a-computer-tell-me-how-to-be-safe-with-meat-cutters" day tomorrow. And then my first shift is on Wednesday. I am optimistic about this job. I will no longer be sitting at a computer for eight hours a day, which will be nice. I will be moving around, with a variety of tasks. And while it is still sales to some degree (though with much more customer service mixed in there), at least it will be a product I believe in. After all - people need food more than they need cell phones. And Albertsons has long been my favorite store; I especially loved it through college.

So yes. Excitement, there. I had hoped that I would be able to take the bus and thus save on travel expenses, but I will be working evenings and it would be too much of a hassle to get back after my shift ends - over an hour and a half (whereas driving takes about thirty minutes), on three different buses, one of which (ninety) is fairly sketchy after dark. Oh well, though.

I hope that I am still happy about the job after this week is over.
I also hope that I get awarded work study so that I can get a job at the campus library through the next two years. (Can you believe I actually miss working in a library? I find it difficult to do so, but perhaps you would have anticipated it.)

Blessings on your travels,
Emily

Itsy-Bitsy Pieces of My Life

Esmeralda is shedding, which always frightens me a bit. I have a rough spot on my neck from scratching it while I had a cold last week, and wondered this morning if I were due to shed, as well. When I was at the optometrist's office today, there was a girl in the waiting room named Esmeralda, and it startled me when they called her. I jerked my head up, and ended up making very awkward eye-contact with her for a few seconds. This was the first time in my life, in all my many years of eye exams, that the assistant was able to perform the glaucoma test on the first try. I hate that test. The blue light coming toward my eye and pressing against it, even though the drops numb the nerve endings so I can not feel it, terrifies me. I was quite pleased with myself for making it through this time. Being there made me keep thinking about Blindness, which I finished reading last week. An excellent book, perhaps the best I have read in a long time. I was fascinated by the author's use of punctuation, which did as much for the pace of the book as the plot itself did. I miss reading a lot. I used to read several books per week, and now it takes me a week to read one. But I am trying to continue reading new books, rather than becoming one who only reads books she has read before. My other new book that I finished recently was If on a Winter's Night a Traveler, which I liked decidedly less. But it seemed to me that part of the author's intent was that the reader should feel the unease I felt at it, so that was somewhat consoling. Next is The Master and Margarita, which my sister has wanted me to read for several years. I had no time or energy to do so during school, but I plan to pick it up starting tomorrow. The trouble I find with reading a lot is, of course, that which so many discover they have. That is, I do not lack time, but I do not feel like reading during that time which I have. I am working eight hours a day, and while I am not working I would like to be mindless. Television is more attractive for that reason, although I dislike television in general. I do not want to lose that mind which was cultivated so carefully over the past four years. My job is horrid at times. We are still in training, having just entered the second week. The hours are awful, and it is a noxious environment to be in. But I have hope that things will improve after training is through, when I am actually in a small, colorless box answering and selling phones. Hard to imagine that that would be a step up, is it not? My soul aches, here. I had thought that I was doing so well, finally getting used to being here again, but tonight after work, my soul started hurting for California again. For my friends, for the places and people I love so much. Oh, how I dislike change, when it is change away from what is good. But I can see ahead. This is not the end. This horrid position is a means to an end, and I will not be there forever. All my applications to graduate school are in, and now I have only to wait. Some say that is the hardest part, but I think it is much easier than agonizing over essays. It is out of my hands; there is a certain ease that comes from that, a sigh of relief. I hope to get into Fullerton. I hope to move back, to finally live with Adria, to study and relax with friends once more. I have few friends here. I hope when I return I will still have many friends there. I am so awful at staying in touch, I fear I may be losing people. My main problem is that I never know what to say. So I say nothing, and they do the same, and we fall away in our respective silences. The underlying issue here is that it is not the conversation that I miss, but the silent presence. I miss most those with whom I can sit quietly, or walk quietly. I miss those with whom there is that quiet understanding that silence is okay, and the silence of not being in contact is so very different than the silence of two people sitting and reading, knowing that the other is there if something does need to be said. I miss that so very much. That is all I can write for now, not because there are no other small pieces of my life I can think of about which to write, but rather because that last bit can not very well lead into any of them.

Blessings on your travels,
Emily

Post-Script Edit: In re-reading this, I realized the ambiguity of one of my sentences. In the sentence I miss reading a lot, a lot should not be taken as the amount that I miss, (eg, reading. I miss it a lot) but the amount of reading I miss (eg, reading lots of books. I miss that).

JobJobJob (take two)

Employment comes to me, yet again. Finally. I will begin working on Monday for ICT. I actually do not really know what I will be doing, specifically. That is, I know I will be answering phones in a call center, but beyond that I am not sure exactly what the job entails. However, the first three weeks are training (a long training, for merely answering phones!) so I am sure I will learn what to do before I actually begin the real job.

The hours of training are a bit horrid: two in the afternoon until ten at night, monday through friday. I have no idea why it is at that time. I like not having to get up at five, but being at work until ten? That is something I had hoped to leave behind me at the library. After the initial three weeks of training, though, I will get a different schedule, five days per week (either monday through friday or tuesday through saturday; I have requested the latter) with hours sometime between six in the morning and eight in the evening. (What is the limit between evening and night? I feel like five o'clock starts evening...and perhaps that nine or ten begins night. Though I have a tendency to say five in the afternoon, and ten in the evening, because in college sometimes midnight still feels like evening.)

It has full benefits (after ninety days), and pays rather well (considering that it is answering phones), so that is nice. Really, any money will be nice. Being able to pay my student loans off would be lovely, as would being able to continue to afford my telephone, and to buy a good heat lamp for Esmeralda's tank (it is too cold, here), and to save money up so that I can perhaps afford to attend grad school in the autumn.

I will, of course, update you when I find out more what exactly the job entails, and whether I will survive it without going insane. I certainly hope I will be able to. It would not be much use saving enough money for grad school if I went insane in the process, rendering myself unable to attend after all.

Blessings in your travels,
Emily.

Labeled

Well, since I have done all I can for my Eastern and WSU applications, I went through and labeled all my posts. There are an awful lot of them, as you can see over on the right hand side if you scroll down. I think it is mostly helpful if a reader reads the post and says to himself, "self, what other things has Emily said about labels?" And then he can click on "labels" under labels at the bottom of the post and see for himself.

The lady at Eastern's grad office called me today to let me know that she received my transcripts today. She is wonderful and lovely. I am sure she is beautiful. Actually, in the image I have of her in my mind, she looks exactly like Marty, the math/comp-sci/comm.disorders secretary at Biola. Likely because she has a similar voice and shows a like care for a small person's troubles.

The person who answered the phone at WSU, however, sounded like a disinterested student employee who does not really know anything, or care that she does not know. Which is fine, I suppose. I have been there at times. But I do hope my transcripts got in there, as well. I am both terrified and hopeful, for various reasons, that I will not be accepted anywhere at all.

Blessings on your travels,
Emily.

My Wretched Day

It started out not so badly, you see. Got up, showered, dressed, had breakfast, made tea. Realized that my interview was in twenty minutes and that it takes ten to drive there, and so did not get to drink my tea. The first bad thing of the day.

The interview was not horrid, but I was nervous. Also, the ladies interviewing me were very casual, which was a bit off-putting for me. That is, I was not entirely sure how to interact with them, because it was very different from the atmosphere one usually encounters in an interview. So that made me more nervous. They said they would be making the decision today, and that I would hear back by five.

I came back to the house, and called EWU to check on whether they had received my transcripts yet. I had faxed Biola with my transcript request ten days ago for EWU, WSU and CSUF, and none had received them yet. Eastern confirmed that they still did not have it. The lady I spoke with was so lovely and nice, she made me feel as though everything in the world would be all right.

So then I called the Biola Registrar. They did not answer their phones. I called again and again, finally left a message, and then continued to call about every ten minutes. Finally they answered. I asked whether my transcripts from my request on the twelfth had been sent. They are very far behind, so nothing on my account has been entered into the computer. She leaves me on a soundless hold for about ten minutes while she (supposedly) rummages through papers. I had to check my phone about once every two minutes to make sure that I was still connected. Could they not at least have had some horrid music or something? No, just dead silence. Anyway, she came back, finally. (I realize I am switching back and forth between past and present tense, but I really do not care at this point.)

"Emily? Your transcripts to San Diego State got sent on the seventh." I know that. Ye gods, did you not listen to me at all? "No, the request I sent on the twelfth." ... ... "We never received any other transcript requests from you. Are you sure you sent them?"

At this point I started crying. I am so frustrated with life and already emotionally unstable this week from having to come back to Washington, and from being worried about my interview from that morning. Yes, I sent them. Yes, they went through. So essentially, they lost them, but refuse to take responsibility for it. Now, my EWU and WSU applications are due on the first of February. I had my requests turned in in plenty of time, but now they make me re-fax my requests, and I have to rush-order them, which costs ten extra dollars per transcript. Forty extra dollars, just because the stupid Registrar people lost my paperwork. I know that I am not the only person to whom this has happened. My mom drives me, sobbing, to her work to re-fax.

I do not have the money for this. My credit card is nearly maxed out, my savings account is dwindling, I have loan payments due on the first, and a phone bill coming up, and other stupid expenses. Stupid Biola, I can not wait until I am no longer dependant upon you.

I finally manage to calm down. But then five o'clock comes and goes, and I still have not heard from the credit union about the job. So I stress until seven-oh-five when my phone rings. I am sure you have guessed by now that I did not get the job. And if so, then you guessed correctly. I really wanted it, too. So that sucks. Anyway, anything more I would say here would just be whining, and I do not like doing that. So I will close.

Blessings on your travels,
Emily.

Labels and Applications

I admire people who use labels well on their blogs. I feel like since I often touch on topics several times over, I ought to use that function as well. I think that when I am done with my grad school applications (about a month from now), I am going to go back through my archive and apply labels to my posts.

I dislike grad school applications. They all require something to the effect of, "Write a three page essay telling us why you are so much more awesome and wonderful than the other hundreds of students applying here." This is not a good exercise for someone who thinks that she probably is not more awesome and wonderful than those hundreds, and that she probably should not be accepted to a graduate program anyway. Except for the fact that she desperately wants to go to grad school, wants so much to continue in her field that it hurts. I wish I could just take a snapshot of my soul, and give that to them instead. Perhaps then they would see, and understand, and allow me to come.

Blessings on your travels,
Emily.