Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Summer Break Blues Rambling

Into an Ordinary State of Consciousness with this post, as opposed to my typical Shamanic Trance...

The alarm goes off. Again? I have to actually get up?
My brain doesn't understand this information. I mean after all, it's summer. What the hell does waking up in the morning have to do with summer? I don't see the connection. In fact, waking up has never been my style, ever since I was very young, I was never a morning person.

I drag my slightly aging body out from underneath the covers and lift my head. My phone rings. "Hi Mommy. Grandpa is taking me to the library. Pick me up from there." Since Gramps is down the street, my kid seems to think he can run me. And sometimes he is successful. Fail for me, win for him. Who's the parent?

It's time for the morning ritual. Breeeeeeeathe. Yooooooga. ....a big glass of water, some sole and one or two apples later, I am ready for the day. I celebrate my eventual rise with two bags of lemon tea and a boca patty on bread, and fresh seasoned tomato salad from my best friend's garden. Ahh, the pleasures of life...and then it happens. I remember the stack of work I've left for myself since I'm in a masters program. I am chained, bound and virtually gagged to this program until I finish, 30 grand later. It pays to be a teacher. Literally. Only problem is, this is not exactly what I signed up for. I should have read the fine print, otherwise I would have realized that saving the kids would just have to wait until I became a millionaire. But I digress.

Limitations, delimitations, hypothesis, and dependent variables all started to flow into a sticky, oozy mush as I studied. Crap. The big crap of the masters program is that here I was, sitting here, having to go through the terror of Statistics class repeatedly, for what seemed like the fifth time in my life. This was my least favorite class, every time. Finite math is like this huge monster running very quickly at me while my legs were always heavy as mud, running away in slow motion. I hate nightmares, and this was a recurring one throughout my life, only the monster had ram horns, big curly ones. I'm starting to think that's another post where I get to ramble about my childhood. So I digress again. I'm a digressor. Er? English class memories...Hmm, never mind.

Man, had I just taken up psychology as I was first inclined to do back in college, I would have this statistical shmistical crap under my belt and handled to the point where all this minutia could have been eliminated. Derailed. Pushed off the edge of a rabid, menacing precipice...but no, back into the book "rabbit hole" I go...and one assignment is completely finished. Now this is an accomplishment for a lazy, hazy summer break that I thought I would never achieve.

I grab a cup of tea, some vitamins and my brain as I head to the bedroom to select clothes for my exercise classes I now have to go teach. Ahh, such is the mundanity of the Ordinary State of Consciousness, that is yet so popular and as "they" say, necessary, to the outer and inner workings of what we're all identifying as Life. I guess that means this post is to be continued...

1 comment:

  1. I love it! You're so descriptive in your thoughts. Ugh, I hate mornings too! I've always been a night time "mover and shaker" to say the least!

    I need to pick my blog up again. ;-) Love you!