Life, School

Don’t post angry.

12.18.08 | Comment?

What a day. Let me start by saying that I know most of the world has it worse, and I realize that, and I’m a giant whiner. Noted. I’m going to bitch and moan and then I’ll be done with it and study for my last remaining test. One which will require a miracle to pass. And, by the way, I do not believe in miracles.

I’m fighting the urge to run away at the moment, trying to convince my body that it’s way too young to have a stroke.

In addition to my usual malaise and anguish, my pride is hurt, and who knew I was so prideful? It’s an ugly thing to be. I’m watching happily but jealously as my classmates pass, many of them with flying colors, having overcome exceptional circumstances what with the storm and all. Despite what I felt were my best efforts, I have performed miserably thus far.

So I was sick this week, really sick. Like walking dead sick. I took a test on the worst day of it, and I failed it. This has upset the delicate balance of how I had planned for my semester to finish. Nothing upsets me more than unmet expectations. And really, I try to keep them pretty low to avoid disappoinment. I have passed two classes so far, but I can’t enjoy the sweetness of that for the utter chaos of the rest of it.

What it comes down to is that my world is a lot different than my classmates’. The only exceptions I will grant is to other mothers in the class, who are superwomen. Dads: sorry. I recognize your exceptions, but it’s still not the same for you. Working/student Moms have it worse, at least when the kids are really young.

I started listing all these reasons why it’s harder for me, and the only thing that stood out (besides my self-pity and childishness, that is), is that I am my own worst enemy. All these things are no one’s fault but mine.

The lesson here, and I’m sad to say that it is a hard lesson learned, is that I need to grow up. I can’t pretend that I’m young and sharp and carefree. I am 28 years old, with a child, and in school to become a professional. This is it for me, and I’m not going to blow it with some lame excuses about having a rougher road than some.

We need boundaries and a schedule. My brain fog is exacerbated by lack of sleep. And I’m talking about I need a good 8 hours every night. (Do you hear that Zoe?! Things are going to change. You’re going to sleep, and you’re going to like it. In fact, you’re going to sleep at least 10 hours. You just get ready.) I need exercise, plenty of it. I’m disgusted with myself for the weight I have gained since school started.

So here it is; another post in which I am in various depths of despair, peppered with resolve and just an inkling of hope. Does anyone else see the pattern?

I’m shaking it off. For the next two days, anatomy rules.

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