January 2005 Archives

This is why I suck. This is me being irresponsible and whiney and immature.

I don't have to work tonight! I've been home for three hours. So far I've talked to my mom on the phone, chatted with TNG, watched tv, picked up the living room a bit, took out the trash, and made popcorn. Here is my current school to-do list:

>Finish Science & Religion Ch. 1 (overdue)
>Read Spirituality, Ch 1-3 (due tomorrow); Ch 4, 5, 7, 8, 9, & 19 (due Friday); (quiz Friday)
>Chemistry:  read/learn/do homework for chapters 6 & 8 (before test next week, although every day I get further behind in this complex subject)
>Oral Interp:  read Ch 1-3 (overdue); Ch 4, 5, & 8 (due Thurs); Lit search assignment (due Thurs); (first performance next week)
>Religion:  read Land of Idols, preface; p. 3-14; p. 15-21 (overdue)
>Religion:  read two articles (due Thurs); (test next week)
>Engl/Phil:  read Aeschylus' Agamemnon (from Greek Tragedies); & lyric poems (due Tues)

My days seriously blur into one another without distinction between days, or even time of day.

1:00am       Go to sleep.
5:30am       Alarm goes off.
5:50am       Get up. Get kids up. Bri does okay, but Shay and J can't find their socks. I refuse to give them new pairs as I explicitly told them to go to bed dressed so we wouldn't have to go through this early morning, we're-all-too-tired turmoil again. Shay refuses to get ready. She sits on the stairs and cries instead of getting her shoes and coat on. She says dad will kill her/me for not having socks. Blah blah blah. Same early morning stuff. Dark, cold, overly tired, in a rush, every morning. At least my car is running for the moment, with its broken window and pervasive shards of glass.
6:26am       Arrive at meeting place. Wait for Nimmers to arrive. Exchange kids.
7:00am       Arrive back home. Crawl back into to bed to get up at 8am.
9:00am       Awake, after many partially-conscious snooze button hits. Shower. Print things for AF. Blah blah blah. Fax in documents by deadline and still make it to class by 11am.
11am-1:50pm       Class. Fall asleep between classes.
2:30pm-8:30pm     Work, with no break.
9:00pm       Arrive home! I've been gone twelve hours. Left to do: Finish reading The Odyssey (>100 pages). Read chapters 1-3 for Oral Interpretation. Read two articles for Modern Religious Thought and be prepared for pop quiz. Catch up in Organic Chemistry. Do dishes, take out trash, pick up living room, do laundry. Prepare for Air Force internship interview in the morning. Do reading lesson with J. Take a bath.

I feel like I'm morphing. So much is going on, but it's not my usual busy busy. It's busier than before, actually, but that's just not it. My guess is one of three things:
1. All the hours a week I spend at work are spent in contemplation. I've never spent so much time reflecting.
2. So many major things are going on, with graduation, with trying to join the Air Force, with my utmost efforts with my children..and more than all this. So much new, so much change, a higher level of demand on me, everything unknown and tumultuous. I don't know what's going on.
3. It's the effect of my religion and philosophy courses, which are introducing me to much and stimulating thought and new ways of looking at things.

I haven't yet brought myself to reach out to anyone. In fact, if anything I've retreated into the real world. I've not been finding my comfort, understanding, happiness and encouragement from online friends as I always have. I'm just here, and I'm doing my thing. Not that I've become reclusive--I'm out more than I'm home. But never before have I gone through my days without leaning on the friendship of someone. I don't know what I think of this. I don't know what's going on, but something's astir.

4:30am >>>> Awake after less than four hour's sleep. Haven't heard from Nimmers regarding a compromise on exchanging the children, so I wake them up and heard them into the blustery cold (wind advisory) to drive them to his house and back--two hours of driving to be done before my 7am shift.
5:00am >>>> Nimmers calls, says he didn't intend to make me drive the kids all that way before work, he just didn't want to call last night in case he woke me. He agrees to meet me inbetween.
5:20am >>>> Exchange children.
5:30am >>>> Crawl into backseat of car in work parking lot, set phone alarm to wake me at 6:30am. Sleep!

7:00am-3:00pm WORK
3:30pm >>>> Arrive at Walmart where I am told it will take two hours to hand over a new tire for my car. This is a big problem. I went to Walmart nearly a week ago, but they didn't have my tire; wouldn't until Thursday. I've been borrowing Mom's Jimmy, imposing on her all this time, and had no time to pick up the tire Thursday or Friday. My brother arrived in town Wednesday; he needed a car, too. He took the Jimmy and mom loaned me the '95 Mustang* instead, which is sad on several counts. (See extended entry.) Now she's stuck at home with no car until I get this tire on mine! Nimmers had said if I buy a tire, he'll put it on my car, but he has to be at work at 5:30pm, meaning he has to have the tire on my car no later than 4:30pm, but Walmart's estimating 5:30pm. I am momentarily upset (as I so easily am when this tired), but then I get a voicemail from Mom. Grandma and Grandpa loaned Mom one of their cars until Monday, so I have until then to resolve this.
4:00pm >>>> Not wanting to spend two hours at Walmart, I go home and nap.
4:30pm >>>> Wake from nap.
5:00pm >>>> Meet Nimmers; pick up kids.
5:30pm >>>> Re-arrive at Walmart; pay $50 for a tire for a stupid old car that probably still won't run. $50 is a lot of money for me.
6:00pm >>>> Take kids to one of my favorite restaurants, having a $1.99 sale on all their subs! Yay! Except I think this means we'll get dinner for $4 by sharing two 6" subs. Instead, Bri and J order $1.75 sandwiches each, Shay orders a $1.99 6" and I order my own 6" (Creamy Crab--crab, cream cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, bacon, toasted, yummy good!) for a total of nearly $10. Not so cheap.
7:00pm >>>> Arrive home.
7:15pm >>>> Exercise, then do laundry.
7:45pm >>>> Sit down here and try to muster getting back up again. I need to clean the kitchen, pick up the house, do more laundry, bathe, study, spend time with kids, do a reading lesson with J., read bedtime stories, and be asleep before getting up at 5:30am tomorrow.

Since the divorce I have been adamant that I would never remarry. I now admit that I will, indeed, remarry. I hope too much of that decision isn't based on such erroneous reasons such as romance. Mostly, what I want is a partner in life. Someone, come with me. Be my friend. Let's pool our incomes and other resources and share living expenses. I'll take care of you when you're sick. You pick me up if my car breaks down. I've got your back, you've got mine. I promise to aid, assist, comfort, and support as best I can.

And if we can go beyond economics, let's go through adventures of life together! Let's travel! Let's explore! Let's try new things! Come, friend, and have milk and cookies with me.

Maybe it's this darn song, "I Will Be Here"*, as sang by Clay Aiken. Mighty sappy, I know, but I want this played at my wedding. Okay, perhaps sappy romance intoxicates women as liquor does. I'm not thinking clearly, am I?

6:38am Wake to phone ring. Realize alarm has been going off for 8 minutes. Weird. I never sleep through my alarm! Nimmers is calling wanting to know how we're getting the kids to school this morning.
6:48am Wake to alarm's snooze going off. Realize I should get up, get the kids ready, and start driving so that I can meet Nimmers somewhere in the middle.
6:58am Wake to alarm's snooze going off. Realize I must get up now. Go into the basement, carry a basketful of clothing to choose from to girls' room, wake girls. Argue with girls who refuse to put on clean clothes because their dad and grandma have made them paranoid about leaving clothing here. Hear dad/grandma's words through their mouths as they accuse me of "stealing" their clothing. I tell them, as I've told dad/grandma, that I am, amazingly, NOT hoarding their clothes in some secret and ever-growing pile; that I am, in fact, using clothing to dress them with; that it is impossible for me to accumulate clothing as long as they come here in an outfit and I sent them out with an outfit, that's an equilibrium; that I am their mother and have a right to have clothing here for them. No one believes me, though. I am stripped even of my right to dress my children, and am made a liar and a thief before them.
7:30am The children leave.
8:30am Failing to convince myself to stay awake and clean, I go back to bed. I have vivid dreams, mostly good, but wake up to the sound of person unknown knocking on my door. I don't feel well.
8:35am Find email from recruiter saying he needs EVERYTHING in TODAY. Holy heck. Is this possible?
12:46pm Still sitting at computer trying to complete just one required component, the applicant workbook. It's 23 pages long. Luckily I'd already filled out the majority of it. Mostly I'm searching for addresses and telephone numbers of a lifetime of contacts.
3:30pm Complete applicant workbook. Leave to fax it and run by school. Pay $10 to have school fax transcripts. Get everything sent in except my Declaration of Intent.
4:30pm Arrive early at work. Clean out car.
5:00-8:30pm Work.

Let me tell you some of the bad of late, not because I need sympathy (it's really not that bad), but because it's comical.

Where should I start?

First, it's been very cold lately. Wait, no, did I mention my car broke down in an ice storm, and by the time it was safe to retrieve it someone had smashed the back passenger window and rummaged through my car? The doors were unlocked, so why they broke the window I don't even know. And if you're looking to steal, an old rundown and abandoned car isn't the best choice for finding anything valuable. They stole nothing but less than a dollar's worth of change and possibly my missing Christmas mug.

Fixed the car, and got stranded nearly two hours from home Thursday afternoon. Did I mention before the breakdown mentioned above, I'd been stranded in Arkansas when my car's security system went haywire? Well, as I left my military physical (nine hours of physical exam, 4am-1pm), my car wouldn't unlock. The only working lock is on the driver's side door, and it wouldn't turn. So I reached through the broken window to unlock that door, and the security system went off. The problem with that is twofold: the only way to disarm it is by putting the key in my driver's side door, which was currently unusable; and the security system rarely if ever responds to that anymore because, as I said, it's gone haywire. Far, far from home, tired, hungry, cold, and alone, I sat in my car and cried. Some military candidate I am. Anyway, Nimmers, bless him, rescued me, got my door unlocked, and miraculously the alarm system shut off and I drove home.

Home was very cold. My heater was out. Home was so cold, in fact, whatever the temperature was inside wouldn't register on the thermostat. I slept in two layers of pants, a sweater, a zipped up coat, two gloves, and snuggled with my children under two blankets.

Friday was filled by school and work so I couldn't take my car anywhere to have the security system disabled. My heater got fixed while I was gone, though. Yay!

Saturday morning, at 6:52am on my way to work, I had a flat tire. I had to pull over on a hilly rural highway--no shoulder--and call my mom out of bed. I also had to call work and tell them I'd be late, which is at least the second if not third time I've been late to work on account of my car in less than two months. Some airmen pulled over and helped me get a spare on. (see extended entry)

After work I was going to drive straight to Walmart to replace my tire, but lo and behold, my spare was flat! Flat flat. I called Mom again to rescue me. She and I bought some of that foam "spare tire in a can" stuff, but when we went back to the car to apply it, the nozzle (and a patch of rubber) fell right off the tire! It was an old tire, after all. We abandoned the car and she loaned me hers.

Sunday, I went to Walmart to buy a tire, and Nimmers said he could come down some day and put the tire on for me if I bought it, but guess what? Walmart is out of tires. No tires for me!

Sunday night I went to take a hot bath to relax. I filled the tub and stepped in--to cold water. That's right, now the hot water heater is out.

The first three or four days after my window was broken, by the way, it rained, drizzled, or otherwise "precipitated". When it rains, it drizzles, and right into the backseat of your car.

P.S.--Now my credit card is missing!

--write Pam thank you note
--make police report
--contact Xanga to drop charges
--send thank you note to car people
--fix campus email
--get tire; repair car
--write mariam
--write Annie
--deposit checks!
--pay rent!
--find credit card!!
--Jen birthday present
--send Dad birthday letter
--clean house
--finish "women who love too much"
--buy cockeyed tshirt
--buy supplements
--add Christmas stuff to blog (pic)
--finish blog entry
--read family fun
--Kids: valentines for CCCC?
--Jesse's schedule
--contact Experian! Credit report!
--get lit packet from library!!
--buy packet from Edit Express!!
--READ CAUSTON, "INTRODUCTIONS"
--READ CHAPTER 1, FOUR VIEWS OF SCIENCE&RELIGION
--READ ODYSSEY, books 1-9 AND HISTORY
--complete Food assignments!!
--email about Piano I F
--change headlights!
--do dishes
--change litter box
--do laundry
--wrap Mic's present
--PAY BILLS
--AIR FORCE DIETETIC INTERNSHIP APPLICATION!: talk to Chef Karen about letter of recommendation; reschedule with Dr. Dassenko; SPPA - Supervised Practice Program Application; Declaration of Intent; Transcript; (GRE result); 9 questions from application packets; Application Workbook; copy of child custody agreement; what source documents are needed?; copy of divorce documents; resumé.

(this will be added to)

Must be intelligent
Family background like mine
Must be Mac user
like wine and sushi and coffee and movies and travel
Must be open-minded (to new ideas and the possibility of changing held opinions)
enjoy debating
be silly
Must be able to joke around with me very well, on my frequency
enjoy child-like things
Must at least sometimes be spontaneous
Must be nice
Must keep promises
be patient and understanding with me
Must treat everyone equally
Must be socially adept
artistic
college educated (preferable)
Must make me feel safe.
Must be trustworthy.
Must be honest.
Must be someone I can talk with about anything
Must value me (not think I'm perfect)
Part-country, part-city strongly preferred!
Must be respectful (no condescension)
Must treat everyone equally
world-citizen
Must be someone I can rely on.
Must keep his word.
be able to cook
Share responsibilities evenly
Be appreciative

(1) I used to write of all the transmission troubles with my car (replacing it twice); not all the other repairs have made it onto the blog. Suffice it to say that they've accumulated to the point that I'd rather be without a car than fix this one another time. And it is broken.
      On my way to pick up my children in the beginnings of an ice storm, my car began to decelerate despite my pushing the gas. I pulled over to the side of the road. I turned off the car and restarted it, except guess what? It didn't restart. It was as if the battery was dead. I couldn't even turn on my emergency blinkers. My car was parked no more than two feet to the side of the white line on a very busy interstate. It was cold. Rain was dripping in the leaks in the window seals. But to make the story short, my ex (Nimmers) drove me to my car today.
      The good news is we were able to jump it easily! Hurrah!
      The bad news is the back passenger-side window--the smaller partition, not the part that rolls up and down--was smashed. Someone had been in my car and trashed it. It's funny, though, because it was already full of trash. It was in major need of cleaning. Said thiefs stirred it up, though. They'd been through my glove compartment (where I'd stashed my diaries, which were now located on my front seat). They'd been through my console and stolen all my change (which had to have been less than fifty cents' worth). They'd been in my trunk. Glass everywhere. And what's really funny is that the car was unlocked. There was no need to smash the window. Isn't that funny? I've been having to leave my car unlocked because I've been having trouble with the security system going off for no reason and then not shutting off, leaving my car unstartable. It's also funny because I can't think of a single thing of any value that was in my car. I didn't even have any CDs in there. (I'm not really laughing, though.)
      The further bad news is that Nimmers pointed out that said thief could easily have my address having rummaged through my car. Furthermore, with Nimmer's long career as a corrections officer, any thiefs in the area are probably well-aware of my last name (being the same as his) and probably bear grudges against it. Double-lock my doors at home, he advises me.
      So now my car has unknown, almost indescribably wacky, unpredictable, sporadic, varied electrical problems and an expensive-to-replace broken window, on top of other malfunctions. I'm tired of fixing it, I really am. And I'm stupidly stubborn enough not to.

(2) A package had arrived at Nimmer's house from my dad for the kids. Inside was also Dad's will. Nimmers was being kind of weird about it, as if he didn't want me to see it, so I insisted. On the front page, the division of Dad's assets was laid out. Dad has two kids, you see, me and Aaron. Aaron gets 50% of Dad's possessions. I get 25%. Nimmers gets 25%.
      What do I think of that? My ex gets half of my inheritance! Furthermore, though Dad had once asked me to and I agreed, he decided on someone else as my brother's guardian, and chose Nimmers as the will's executioner. I'd like to be mad about this, but then I thought, Dad sent me money for my birthday and I never thanked him. He's called several times since, and I've never returned his calls. In fact I don't know when I spoke to him last; I avoid him. Dad and Nimmers are really close. Nimmers has probably been much more of a child to Dad than I've been. I guess Dad deserves that, and guess Nimmers deserves an inheritance. The bottom line is I'm a horrible person.

(3) So on Nimmer's day off, he (for the second time) drove the 45 minute drive to my house and then back again. He picked me and the kids up and spent the rest of his day doing fun things like scraping ice off my car (that took a considerable amount of time) in 20º weather perilously close to the interstate, and sitting in his car for an hour waiting for a tow truck (which TNG wonderfully called for me). Finally, he took me back to his house (for the third time in this ordeal), offered me food and drink, and then loaned me use of his own personal car. As I was walking from his driveway I offered a lame, "Thanks", and then, "I don't know how to repay you." All this he's done for me, and it's far from the first time he's done such things since we've divorced. You do not know and may not be able to fathom the great pain I caused him by my actions and by leaving him. And yet he's spent so much time and money helping me, without any unpleasantness attached. In response, he said quietly, after a pause, "Just don't get involved with someone like Scott again. The kids deserve better than that." I got in his car and drove away and cried.

(4) With these realizations of my character, of the good that's come my way I don't deserve, and the bad, how can I be upset with Her? How can I blame her? Have I not unintentionally hurt others too? Have I not also made mistakes? Done things with horrible consequences with the best of intentions? What she did to me may very well be Karma repaying me for what I did to Nimmers. In any case it's helped me grow as a person, and to see what I wouldn't have seen otherwise. Hours upon days of wrenching pain she's caused me, damaged my dearest relationship, and I forgive her.

(1) I used to write of all the transmission troubles with my car (replacing it twice); not all the other repairs have made it onto the blog. Suffice it to say that they've accumulated to the point that I'd rather be without a car than fix this one another time. And it is broken.
      On my way to pick up my children in the beginnings of an ice storm, my car began to decelerate despite my pushing the gas. I pulled over to the side of the road. I turned off the car and restarted it, except guess what? It didn't restart. It was as if the battery was dead. I couldn't even turn on my emergency blinkers. My car was parked no more than two feet to the side of the white line on a very busy interstate. It was cold. Rain was dripping in the leaks in the window seals. But to make the story short, my ex (Nimmers) drove me to my car today.
      The good news is we were able to jump it easily! Hurrah!
      The bad news is the back passenger-side window--the smaller partition, not the part that rolls up and down--was smashed. Someone had been in my car and trashed it. It's funny, though, because it was already full of trash. It was in major need of cleaning. Said thiefs stirred it up, though. They'd been through my glove compartment (where I'd stashed my diaries, which were now located on my front seat). They'd been through my console and stolen all my change (which had to have been less than fifty cents' worth). They'd been in my trunk. Glass everywhere. And what's really funny is that the car was unlocked. There was no need to smash the window. I've been having to leave my car unlocked because I've been having trouble with the security system going off for no reason and then not shutting off, leaving my car unstartable. It's also funny because I can't think of a single thing of any value that was in my car. I didn't even have any CDs in there.
      The further bad news is that Nimmers pointed out that said thief could easily have my address having rummaged through my car. Furthermore, with Nimmer's long career as a corrections officer, any thiefs in the area are probably well-aware of my last name (being the same as his) and probably bear grudges against it. Double-lock my doors at home, he advises me.
      So now my car has unknown, almost indescribably wacky, unpredictable, sporadic, varied electrical problems and an expensive-to-replace broken window, on top of other malfunctions. I'm tired of fixing it, I really am. And I'm stupidly stubborn enough not to.

(2) A package had arrived at Nimmer's house from my dad for the kids. Inside was also Dad's will. Nimmers was being kind of weird about it, as if he didn't want me to see it, so I insisted. On the front page, the division of Dad's assets was laid out. Dad has two kids, you see, me and Aaron. Aaron gets 50% of Dad's possessions. I get 25%. Nimmers gets 25%.
      What do I think of that? My ex gets half of my inheritance! Furthermore, though Dad had once asked me to and I agreed, he decided on someone else as my brother's guardian, and chose Nimmers as the will's executioner. I'd like to be mad about this, but then I thought, Dad sent me money for my birthday and I never thanked him. He's called several times since, and I've never returned his calls. In fact I don't know when I spoke to him last; I avoid him. Dad and Nimmers are really close. Nimmers has probably been much more of a child to Dad than I've been. I guess Dad deserves that, and guess Nimmers deserves an inheritance. The bottom line is I'm a horrible person.
     

Here's the kind of thing about TNG that never makes it on my blog but happens all the time.

Tonight I found that two of my children had dumped my favorite body wash--a full bottle--completely out. It's relatively cheap stuff, easily replaced, but I was distraught. I typed out the whole thing to TNG, along with all my emotion about how much they were hurting my feelings by not apologizing, and my endless "What should I do?"s. TNG was busy, mind you, coding, and there I was going on and on with my emotional petty drama.

The first thing he said in advice was, "They can't think it's okay. Punish them for sure. Just don't feel bad, I'll get you more body wash." This was the most perfect thing to say to me at that moment. Absolutely perfect.

Then he proceeded to call and talk with each of the kids, just to talk and also to ask about the bath incident. He spent half an hour on the phone helping me with my children.

It was such a comfort having someone to listen to something that could be seen as so petty, to listen, to advise, to take my feelings seriously, to express sympathy, to care, and to help.

What has gotten into me? I feel I should seclude myself until it's safe for me to be around others. Aside from this whole Her issue that I've sunk my teeth into and shake back and forth like a dog with its prey, I'm just not nice. Note these examples.

Typical Me:
Thanksgiving dinner at work included dressing, one of my most favorite and rarely-treated to things. When the meal was over and everyone had been served, I saved the last of the dressing from the trash can and put it in a container to take home. Much later, upon entering the break room, I met a large nurse who had already had a large portion of dressing. She asked if there was any more. I told her happily I'd check, thinking maybe there was still some in the oven, but no, it was indeed all gone. "Should I give her mine?" I asked. No, my coworkers said. She'd already eaten, it was long after meal time, all the dressing was gone. I couldn't help but feel guilty all the rest of the day, though. I had dressing and she didn't. I kept thinking maybe I'd just give her my container, even though it was my only little piece of Thanksgiving, my prize.

Me Today:
Dinner at work tonight included grilled cheese sandwiches. When the meal was over and everyone had been served, there were only a few pieces of sandwich left. My coworker, Ashley, commented that she wanted one. "Me too!" I said. Then a nurse approached me. "Are there any grilled sandwiches left?" Normally we serve nurses any leftovers they request, out of kindness. This time, while the nurse watched, I calmly put two halves of a sandwich on a plate and set it aside for Ashley. Then I put two halves on a plate and set it aside for myself. "We've got half a sandwich left," I informed her in a "take it or leave it" voice.

Okay, see, normally, I'd have bubbled, "Sure! How many do you want?" and given her all the sandwiches happily if she'd asked, even if it meant Ashley and I went hungry. No more.

But then, the nurses were really getting on my nerves tonight. Last night, like usual, they didn't bother to make sure all the residents ate. In fact, they left all the ones who needed assistance eating without assistance. Unfortunately for them they did this on a shift my boss was working. Drama ensued. Thus, tonight we had plenty of nurses in the dining room, but all extremely begrudgingly and hovering around my buffet line exuding their irritation. Ooh, how that ticks me off. Do they have something better to do? What the heck do they normally do when all the residents are eating anyway? How could it possibly be more important than making sure the residents get food?! How can they not care about these poor starving people? And how DARE they be hostile to me? Normal me would have been eager to appease them, sending out more feeder room trays than main dining room, as they kept snottily urging me. Tonight, their requests only made me want to leave the feeder room for last. I didn't, though: I sent feeder trays out about 2:1 instead of the typical 1:1, so I guess I haven't completely changed.

I heard there was a secret chord that David played and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth, the minor fall, the major lift, the baffled king composing Hallelujah

Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah

Your faith was strong but you needed proof, you saw her bathing on the roof, her beauty in the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you to a kitchen chair, she broke your throne, she cut your hair, and from your lips she drew the Hallelujah

Maybe I have been here before. I know this room; I have walked this floor. I used to live alone before I knew you
I've seen your flag on the marble arch, love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

There was a time you let me know what's really going on below, but now you never show it to me, do you?
And remember when I moved in you? The holy dark was moving too. And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

Maybe there's a God above, and all I ever learned from love was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
And it's not a cry you can hear at night. It's not somebody who's seen the light. It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah.

Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah

--Halleljah, Rufus Wainwright

A minimum of 124 hours is required.
----> 109 taken, 15 in progress
A minimum of 30 hours taken at Central are required.
----> 106 hours taken, 12 in progress
35 upper level hours required:
----> 45 hours taken, 9 in progress
12 upper-level hours in required major courses and major prefix courses are required.
----> 43 hours taken

2.00 cumulative GPA required.
2.00 GPA for major prefix courses required.
2.00 GPA in required major courses, required university studies courses, and major prefix courses required.
---->MET

Division I Intellectual Skills: MET
   Area A Written Skills: MET
   Area B Oral Communication: in progress
   Area C Mathematical Reasoning: MET
Divison II Fine Arts: MET
Division II History Requirement: MET
Missouri Legislative Requirement: MET
   Area A Natural Sciences and Technology Part I: MET
   Area A Natural Sciences and Technology Part 2: MET
   Area B Social Sciences: MET
   Area C Humanities Part I: MET
   Area C Humanities Part 2: MET
   Area D Cultural Interaction: MET
   Area E Personal Interaction: MET
Division III Integrative Studies: in progress
Dietetic Major Requirements: CHEM 2650 (I intend to get excused from this.)

Cleared to graduate May 8, 2005.