This week I learned…
…that sometimes being a responsible adult sucks. It’s that time of year again when everything converges and there just isn’t enough hours in the day to get it all done. There’s certainly no time to do the things I want to do – read, write, sacrifice a few brain cells sitting on my couch wearing holey pjs, eating ding dongs, and watching everything the Bravo channel can throw my way. It’s just the nature of things, and usually I am very good at accepting that this is the journey I chose to embark upon – you know, that whole personal growth bullshit. This year, however, my rebellious self seems to be having a little trouble keeping his eye on the prize. Spring is warm, sunny, and intoxicating, and the allure of it all, is just so damned tempting. So, what do you do when you have a nagging conformist on one shoulder and a mocking rebel on the other? You lock the conformist in the closet, and you go out to play. Duh. Of course, these little bursts of self-indulgence are not without their consequences. I’ve spent the last week or so digging out from a stack of homework so deep it surely rivals Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stouts’ garbage pile.
…that after sitting through a lecture on sleep deprivation, I realize that I should probably reevaluate my anti-napping ideology. My husband will be relieved to hear this, and I’m sure he will take full advantage of it should I decide to change my stance.
…that just when I thought I might actually miss “yoga for a grade”, the instructor goes and does something that makes me want to roll up my mat, go home, and say screw the GPA. From the onset, this class has been disorganized – and that, I feel, is being generous. Goals and expectation were never established and we’ve had very little guidance in the actual fundamentals of yoga practice. All of these shortcomings and failures could be overlooked, indeed forgiven, because for the most part, I enjoyed the physicality of the class. We did, of course, have that little incident early on with the humiliating quiz – you remember, the one where we had to each perform a single pose at the front of the room for our classmates to guess. Charades for a grade. Couldn’t get much worse than that, right? Guess what? I was wrong. I should have seen it coming, but alas, I did not. Two weeks before scheduled final exams, she dropped the ultimate bomb on us. It was nuclear. It seemed our final exam would require us to come up with a sequence of yoga poses, combine them into cohesive segments, and then teach them to the class. But wait, there’s more. We had just two class periods to get with a partners, choose the poses, arrange the poses, practice the poses, and choose our accompaniment music because she wanted to do our final a week early. Oh, and by the way, our performances would be videotaped so that we could relive our most humiliating moment at the end of semester party she’d planned. I’m sure I will see the humor in all this someday – when the scars have healed.
…that there are few things in life more enjoyable than sitting poolside with my BFF, a little drunk on wine, trading child rearing war stories.
…that Adam Yauch of the Beastie Boys has died. There have been a lot of notable deaths of late, but I find his to be one of the saddest. I can’t say that I am an ardent fan of Beastie Boys’ entire body of work, but their first album brings back fond memories of my favorite summer. It would be my last carefree summer; not long after, the reality of adulthood reached up and bitch slapped me.
…that the three seat belts in the backseat of my car are deceiving. It is nearly impossible to fit three passengers back there. Guess I should have considered that before I volunteered to carpool a Sunday field trip to Boyd.
…that I was nominated for the Very Inspiring Blogger Award by my fellow writer Julie over at Word Flows. It’s always so nice to receive an acknowledgement from one’s peers. It is doubly nice when it comes from someone you admire and respect. She, herself, is one inspiring lady. Go check her out.
…that my work in progress, Retribution, has evolved into something quite different from my original vision. I blame the outlining.
…that when you add a warm late spring day, a community swimming pool, and a tennis ball together with a group of twelve-year-old boys you will get stupidity to the ninth power.
…that last, but not least, this week’s awww moment is brought to you by this little creeper who has taken up residence on my back patio for the duration of the season.