I gave everyone the Dooce tip and it looks like I've created a small party of stalkers. Of course, blogging is more or less inviting stalkers to stalk...I mean, that is the point of blogging, right? I've been thinking about how pretentious it can seem to people who aren't familiar with the medium, and I was worried about it how that perception might reflect on me, but I'm over it now. I'm also over worrying about whether or not people prefer my blog over Dooce's. She's awesome and so is her website. I can't compete, and so I won't. I have my own thing and it's good.
Plus, I'm obsessed with Dooce too. I've spent hours on her site and she is just plain crazy. And her infusion of all things traditional-Mormon is awesome. What's not awesome is that my mom decided to email her. Yes. She. Did. And, even better, she cc'd me. I was reading the email, but not totally believing what I was reading. My mom, Lisa, was basically asking her why she stayed at BYU when she obviously hated it. Dooce devotes plenty of posts to her immense dislike of BYU, Provo, and the life she missed as a result of attending BYU. It's quite good reading.
Enough about Dooce. Just know my mom emailed her. She broke the wall--the fourth wall that separates performer from audience. My mother, and maybe me as a result of her including me in the email, has become part of the performance. Oh dear. I wonder if there will be a response from Dooce's camp...?
It's Sunday night and I'm procrastinating the heaps of school work I have to do. I don't know how I get myself into these predicaments, but I went from having no job and tons of free time, to two jobs, a tutoring gig, two summer school classes , and massive homework assignments as a result of the truncated class schedule. I'm not coping well. I've already had a major breakdown since this hectic schedule started....
Last week I went to pick up Ryan from work. We are a one car family, by the way. This issue could be it's own post entirely and so it may one day. As a result of only having one car, Ryan does a lot of the sacrificing so that I can drive all over town to get to class and work. I usually pick him up at his office at the end of each day. And so it was the particular day that I had my breakdown. I had started my new job that day and what was supposed to be an introductory five hour shift had turned into a we-are-short-staffed-can-you- stay-and-help-shift. I stayed to help. I ended up working a 10 hour shift. You can't realistically say "no" on your first day. Can you? I did get overtime on my first day, so that's cool.
I was tired--so tired. Ryan called and told me to pick him up at a restaurant downtown. I drove to the restaurant to get him. As I was driving he text me and told me to forget it, he would get a ride home from his boss. I was already waiting in front of the restaurant when I got this text message. I wrote him back and told him I was already waiting. He told me to meet him at his office. (By this time, I was starting to shake. I just wanted to go home) I drove to his office. I waited. And waited. He pulled up and got in the car. He yelled. I cried. I started the car and began to drive home. But, I couldn't think straight and I was having trouble getting out of the parking lot. I made one final turn and it was a dead end. I gave up. I stopped the car and began to sob. Uncontrollably. I couldn't find my way out of an office park parking lot--one that I had managed to find my way out of HUNDREDS of times previous to this.
I share this with you for no real reason--I'm crazy. I've just re-read all of this and realized that it's not a very interesting post. My apologies.
Ryan was at Lake Powell all weekend camping and boating with my brother, Christian, and my sister, Shannon. I wish so badly that I could have gone. But, I had a summer school class all day on Saturday. He said he had fun. He's coming home tomorrow. It feels like I haven't seen him in weeks.
Nursery SUCKED today. It was by far the toughest day I've had in there since I started. They were all about screaming today. I wanted to run away. I thought about it more than once. Why is our church 3 hours long? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?
One of my favorite kids, the hot panties girl, is moving out of the ward. I was crushed when they told me.
I have to do homework now.
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