May 2004 Archives

I once dated a guy, pre-TNG, who drove all the way from Kansas City to buy me dinner. He came bearing gifts: perfectly wrapped presents in a gift bag, nestled in tissue paper, adorned with curly ribbons, ala Hallmark. What would a guy bring to impress me? Jewelry? Flowers? No, this was so much better than that! Not knowing me, but aware of my fondness for the Spiderman movie, he brought me Spiderman silly string and a Spiderman punching bag. Daring move, and perfect.

After dinner the intent was to take me shopping for a dress because I didn't have any appropriate for going to the theater. Another time he drove down to visit me at work with pizza and soda, my favorite donuts, and $40 cash he insisted I have, knowing my difficult situation as a new single mom. Over and hour's drive to see me for lunch! Another: learning that I'd never been in a limo, his insistence that a girl "such as myself" should have had such treatment by now led to a surprise limo ride to a picnic lunch where he read me a poem he'd written for me, followed by champagne in the limo ride back, followed by more champagne, a long talk into the night surrounded by candles and a thunderstorm and a professional massage (he was a masseuse, amongst wearing many other interesting hats).

This guy was handsome and well-built, intelligent, well-spoken, nice, caring, financially stable with a nice house and impressive new truck, respectful, gentlemanly, generous... I can't say a bad word about him, really. And I wanted to like him, but I couldn't. I couldn't manufacture the feelings. I can't tell you what he was lacking or what he did wrong because there was no such thing. He just didn't capture me.

TNG came along with nothing flashy, rather on the plain and simple side. He didn't have any money, no limo rides or champagne--but I was so intrigued. We hit it off so well that in less than three days time we couldn't bear to be apart. I can't tell you why.

I don't know where my day went, but I know I didn't waste it. A good day. (Read details below).

Fatigue suddenly descended on me like a cape of lead and quickly poisoned my entire system. We had Goldilocks and the Three Bears left to read and I didn't dare disappoint, so with a stuffed rabbit as a pillow I lay down in the little wooden children's play house at the public library and read to J. It was all I could do, really, and afterwards I didn't think I could get up. I lay there until J. told me I had to move because I was blocking the doorway. Surely, I thought to myself, surely I can put the newspaper I was reading away...but the walk across the room seemed impossible. Surely I can get myself back home...

I kid you not. Have you ever had a moment of pain, tiredness, nausea, or the like where you thought you'd never make it to your destination? I willed myself every step of the way: "Really, self, keep walking, you can do it, just get home."

That coupled with the discovery that I am once again running a fever (and still in pain) led me to call the Student Health Center. Three gracious people had already offered to pay my medical expenses if need be, bless their hearts, but I charged it to my student account. And God bless the Student Health Center! For $38.50 my office visit, labs, and antibiotic were covered, and this very simple matter should be behind me.

I got up this morning and in less than three hours time made arrangements to pick up the kids, did laundry, did dishes, cleaned the table and set it with a mat, candle, and flower arrangment, served TNG lunch of citrus rice, Wasabi-bacon burger, chips, fresh iced tea, bacon-flavored green beans, and a thermos of coffee, then drove him back to work. (We're sharing a car for a few days.) I picked up the kids from their dad's and drove them to an appointment (a fellow college student "friend of a friend" needed to interview three children for an art education project and I agreed to help). We came home, planned and worked in the garden until my pain flared up again. Drove back into town and picked TNG up from work, drove to Walmart where he bought us more gardening supplies, drove back home. Gardened more, shoveling and breaking clots. Increasing discomfort, but what can I do? I had the kids help me cook dinner while I did the dishes again. Fed them a snack of apple slices and homemade caramel sauce. Now, dinner's cooking, two of three kids are bathed. I need to do more laundry, serve dinner (and probably find more to serve than just what's on the stove), clean up afterward, finish the dishes, get the last kid bathed and all of them settled in bed, and I need to study for my first exam in this summer class. And I'm exhausted, have been feeling wiped out, ran-over-by-a-truck, utterly fatigued as if I've been doing heavy manual labor every day by mid-afternoon for the past two weeks or so. I don't know what's wrong with me or why I keep running out of steam... No, seriously, doing dishes and laundry isn't too much for a person to accomplish in a day.

So while I still contend I don't do enough, I suppose I should look at this and console myself that I do do something.

I hate that I cried when the landlord came to my door to gently tell me my rent check bounced. Oh, yes, everyone, feel sorry for me! Poor old me, I have it so hard. I don't want your sympathy, don't want to evoke it. Mom called today, offering to pay so I can replace my eight year old eyeglasses, offering me grocery money, offering to take me to the doctor to get antibiotics for the infection that's worsened over the past week. "No no no I'm fine," I tell everyone, until the landlord comes and I get the rough realization that I've made an error in my account somewhere and I really have run out of money. I mean, don't worry, I've got a little bit that hasn't been deposited yet and a little bit stashed away for emergencies, and more student loans coming in soon. But for goodness sakes, I'm 26 years old, why can't I take care of myself?

I don't deserve anyone's sympathy because I CAN do this. There is no reason why my house should be so messy, the dishes and laundry piled up. There is no excuse for not being able to pay my rent or buy groceries. If I had worked harder everything would be fine. But truth is I haven't worked hard enough, and purely through my own stupidity, selfishness, and laziness have I let everyone down. Don't rush to refute me, it is the truth.

I could hardly be more embarrassed or feel more like a loser than I do right now. I'm supposed to take care of everyone and it isn't that I can't but that I haven't.

I now need only 30 more credits to graduate. I'm contemplating taking 12 hours this summer and 18 in the fall, particulary after two run-ins with fellow students, one of whom just happened to take such a summer load successfully last summer, and the other who just happened to take such a load last fall. Strange coincidence, really, and both said while difficult, it's a doable task.

However, I can't do it if TNG isn't here. Financially, practically, emotionally, and in every which way, I might be able to reach this goal--enabling me to graduate this December rather than next May--if he helps. Consequently, he has committed to staying until the end of the year at least and helping me through this.

So, if I can get the scheduling to work out, I'm going to work my butt off in school and graduate by the end of the year. See me smile?

I can't believe it. It's over! I did it! I had finals from 8am until 4pm-- luckily, not straight through-- and they're done. I can hardly get it through my head that I don't have to study tonight, or do homework. The big Cloud'O'Guilt that rains down the "I shoulds" and "I oughts" has passed on temporarily. I'm free, I'm free, I'm free! (for a few days)

I can't believe I've done it. I really, really did it. I was beginning to think, after so many messy semesters ruined by divorce and other obstacles, that I wasn't capable. When I think back of over all the assignments and tests, all the chapters read and notes taken, the deadlines and responsibilities I have completed-- to look back at that mountain of things that overwhelmed me and to know I did it just fine-- I know, I know, it's just a semester of school and nothing more, but for me, it's a major accomplishment.

I'd like to thank TNG, who listened to my complaints and countless hours of fretting, who encouraged and supported me all the way. I also give credit to my unemployment, which, while bad for most things, was good for school.

To celebrate I let the kids each pick out a toy from the dollar store (they love that stuff) and we all went out for "drinks" on the patio of a Mexican restaurant. TNG made a toast to me, then we all drank our lemonades and whipped-cream-and-sprinkle-topped-real-fruit-slushies, and snacked on tortilla chips and salsa.

TNG urged me off so I could get home, insisting on paying. Going out was my idea, so I hate to have him pay, but I relented. He came home thirty minutes later with a bouquet of flowers for me, for all my hard work. I'm rambling, aren't I? I'm just so happy!

There are moments when life seems oh-so-good.

The class most recently at the top of my "I fear I might get a C" list, I have just found out, I made a B in. I wish I had done better, but looking back over my performance I suppose it's fair, and I'm very grateful. Boy, does it feel good!

I just wanted to shout, "I have a B!" Two classes completed and three left on Thursday.

The most amazing thing happened today. The FedEx truck made their way out here to the country, right to my door, and they had something for me! It was an envelope sent overnight, and with much curiousity I opened it. Finding a simple sheet of paper inside only piqued my curiousity further. What's this? And then--"OH MY GOSH!" I exclaimed. "There's money!" I quickly sat, nearly trembling, and excitedly read the letter. It was from a friend, a mother's day gift, with sent with the biggest of heart full of the kindest of care and warmest of wishes.

I was shocked at this blessing for some time afterward, and still ponder it. How can people be so good, and how can so much good be directed my way?