When I started this accounting class six weeks ago, I wanted to be that woman. Not that kind of that woman. That woman who can give her all to her personal life and give her all to a full-time job and give her all to the class - having all the readings done and the homework done by the time the teacher covered the material in class. Yeah. So, I'm not sure what gave me such delusions of grandeur, but, needless to say, I'm not living up to them. Especially since, at the core, I'm a woman who needs a full eight hours of sleep and also enjoys vegging in front of the tv.
I am now that woman who is quite anxious about her exam tomorrow because she hasn't been studying regularly.
I am also that woman who dearly loves her husband and her father - the former picked up the latter from the airport, and then the two of them went to breakfast. Without me.
Bad blogger, Shokufeh, bad blogger.
I'm not sure why almost a week has passed since my ever-so-scintillating last entry. I guess it's just that life has been getting in the way. A mix of good and bad.
Let's focus on the good:
This past weekend, I participated in a Ruhi Book 3 intensive study circle - on teaching Baha'i children's classes. We had a really good group.
Depicted a quote with this kickass Crayola modeling clay. Have you seen the stuff? How do kids keep it out of their mouths? I'm 30, and I wanted to stick it in mine. Thank goodness it's Crayola, so I don't have to worry about it killing me.
We also had two opportunities to practice teaching - one with an established Baha'i Sunday School, and one with a family at their home. Both days, I met little boys named Anis. (Which probably means that I should soon tell the story of the Anis in Baha'i history, especially for Anissa's sake.) Both days, I was captivated by the little people and just wanted to eat them up.
Hmmm, wanting to eat non-food items seems to be the theme of the weekend.
Here is a simple toy you can make with some of the things readily available on your desk. By toy, I mean “something that might amuse you more than staring into space, for a moment or two.”
Take the curly cord on your telephone and make sure it’s really tangled. If you’re like me, and really lucky, this is the default position of your telephone cord. Stick your ballpoint pen into the spiral of the cord. Tap the pen and watch it jiggle in the air.
Try inserting other items on your desk. Use them like catapults.
As you may have read, lay-c.com went kaput for a brief spell. But, Lacey... that girl works fast, she works hard, and she works wonders. She refused to let us go long without our blogs. I've just been remiss in writing, due to being in Denver and then due to catching up from being in Denver.
Yes, there are still some html issues, as you've probably noticed. But for now, I will stick to topics that don't require linkage. And all will be good.
You ever have one of those days that you return to work after a week away, and have work dumped on you even though before you left it was decided that the project would be given to someone else, despite the interest you’ve shown in it and the effort you’ve exerted? And you’re told the work has to be done within 24 hours? And so you stay late for a few hours, but then you need to leave before the parking garage gets creepy? So you take your work home, and you type and calculate and organize, and drink coffee? At 1 am, you decide that the last little bit can wait until you get to work. And then when you get to work, did the same person who told you that you needed to do the work is in meetings all morning and, when you do cross paths, doesn’t express any interest in the work that you’ve done? Does it bother you that that person doesn’t express any appreciation for the fact that you’ve devoted the last 20 hours, both awake and asleep, to thinking and dreaming about this project, because it’s the only area of work in which you feel like you’re working on something that makes some use of your experience and education? The one thing that makes you feel like maybe leaving a job with a comparable salary, and room for growth, and a door on your office, and people with whom you got along, and personal satisfaction, was worth it? Yet it’s the same thing that no one seems to want you to do? But ironically, they turn to you to do the work? And then you wonder why if no one else seems to care, why should you?
Yeah, me either.