I’m Exhausted!

I don’t know what it’s been about writing and work and school and life lately.  I feel tired and rushed.  The answer might have something to do with the Christmas (shopping) season arriving, but I think it is also partly because of my hap-hazard existence right now.  I feel so tired very early in the evening and I want to cry at times during the day.  And it’s not even because something’s annoying me.  I’m just… I don’t know!

Although, my eye whatever came back and the eye doctor said it’s not pink eye.  I have bumps under my eyelids from some kind of allergic reaction and that’s what causing my eyes to have that ‘pink eye’ like symptoms.  Am I allergic to waking up?  I could believe that.

My work is tiring me out because the receptionists are quitting and the insurance and billing coordinator is quitting, and they asked me to cover the front desk in the evening, instead of me working in the back with my doctor.  Which pissed me off, but I agreed only until the end of December.  I sent a higher up an email informing them of this fact.  We’ll see if she is ‘offended’ by my standing up for myself, and we’ll see if this gets me in trouble.

I think that’s all coming together to make me more tired, an angry, and just… over it.  What can I do to help myself?

And on that note, it’s been real!

Rise & Sh-! Shut Up!

I’m sure I’m not the only person who is feeling tired this time of year.  Every day when my alarm goes off at 6:00, I yawn, stretch, and try to wake myself up as much as possible.  Once I get out of my bed, it’s easier.

My younger sister jokes that I’m an old lady now because of my self-imposed curfew.  I’m showered and all ready for bed and even climbing into bed a little after 9:00.  But, I stay up till a little after 10:00 playing Temple Run 2 on my Kindle, then reading whatever book catches my fancy from my shelf.  Then, the Melatonin kicks in, the yawns increase, and the sleep mask comes down.

The only days I don’t have to set an alarm (unless I’ve got someplace to be) are Saturdays and Sundays.  I sleep like a dead person and rise whenever I feel like it (but always before 11:00).  However, on the days I do have get up early, I wish instead to be like the puppy above, all cuddly and snug in my bed.  Maybe next week, since it’s a holiday week…

And on that note, it’s been real!

God Save the Teacher (& Me)

It’s been a while since I wrote anything about my class, or what we’ve been doing so far.  At the moment, we’re in our third module, which we will complete officially tomorrow.  It was a little rough; we had a different teacher, but she was a gem, and took pity on us when it came to the work.  And I must thank God for her patience, for the stupid questions did not cease.

There is one girl in my class who has about as much brain between her ears as a politician has a heart in his body.  Nunce.  Every single time she hands in something to be graded, she asks our teacher, “Am I failing?”

Our teacher will say, “Yes, you are… just kidding!”

“Oh, NO!” my fellow student will moan in a sing-song fashion before my teacher can say she’s joking.  And she’s done that since day one of class.  Sometimes twice in the same day.  Finally, last week, I had enough.  My teacher was grading her test, she asked the same question, got the same answer, and proceeded with the same response.

I asked, “Why do ask the same question when you know she’s going to mess with you?”  She got no retort or defense back.  We’ll be staying with this teacher for the next module which begins next week (Thanksgiving week).  Thankfully, the class they are starting out with is one I transferred out of, so I don’t have to make an appearance at all next week.  Yay!  And then I got out of another class and lowered my tuition some more.  Which means when those classes arrive, I can either have extra free time, or work a little more.  Which sometimes, I would rather do than share the same classroom with her.

And on that note, it’s been real!

Swivel, Girl! Swivel!

My chair rolls and swivels.  It’s literally the best.  I can sitting in the operatory, waiting for my doctor, and if the patient doesn’t want to talk, or I don’t want to talk, I swivel and roll.  At the front (when I have the displeasure of working up there), my high-backed chair can spin around so fast, I can make myself dizzy.  At school, I have a little roller stool that I can use when I’m bored/done with everything and am waiting for others to finish.  That and reading on my phone (not going to lie).

Chairs can say something.  The chair that sits in front of this laptop, has been with me for almost ten years.  I remember scraping together quarters, dimes, and nickels in order to pay for it.  It is breaking and peeling and the arms are almost ragged now.  Every piece of knitwear that I have catches on it and pulls.

The chair tells a story.  It has been with me for three novels, a set of short mystery stories, two term papers, a screenwriting class, and now, a new novel.  This chair his swiveled and rolled with me through a lot.  And I will be very sad when the time finally comes to give it up.

And on that note, it’s been real!

I’m Not a Loner; I’m Just Allergic to Stupidity

Most people saw me sitting by myself when I went to my vo-tech in high school.  I was home schooled during the morning, then went to my tech school in the early afternoon.  Of course, I was the only home schooled girl in my class, and all the public school girls brought their drama.  They talked about things that were too much to say in such company.  Needless to say, I was not interested in listening to their unsavory discussions, so I asked my teacher if I could sit off on my own and listen to music on my phone.  I didn’t make a lot of friends with girls in my class.  I was actually friendly with several kids who weren’t in my class, but were in my Skills USA group.  They talked about similar topics with me, and were smarter than my fellow classmates and more polite.

I’ve never been patient with stupid/uncultured people.  My father’s tendencies (which he passed onto me) do not allow for that.  With a few exceptions, I don’t really work with stupid people.  All my siblings are like me; some to lesser extents, but they still have it.  We practice on each other to sharpen our repartee and our sardonic wit.  At my restaurant, I have to deal with stupid customers, not stupid coworkers.  However, when I go to the dentist, I pray that the front desk won’t f*ck up my doctor’s schedule.  If they do, that’s when I pray to God to give me the strength not to kill them, and to protect my IQ level.

The meme that’s above?  I found it while just looking for funny quotes to make me laugh.  I showed it to my younger sister, who is just as ruthless as I am, and she burst out cackling.  Sometimes that’s all it takes to lift my spirit if I’m feeling down.  Laughter is a medicine in and of itself.  Sarcasm is just a specific type of antibiotic for life.

And on that note, it’s been real!

The Fault in the Faculty

Today, we have to give five minute demonstrative speeches for our class.  I used to be a member of Toast Masters International, so I’m fine with giving a speech.  However, we’ve got one of the school’s big shots trying to sit in on our speeches today.  She smiles at us whenever she comes across us, but she’ll tell our teacher to dock us points for attendance (we left like ten minutes early, big whoop), and not to give us 100% on our speeches, because it’s impossible for somebody to do that good a job apparently.  I declare!

I’ll have you know, madam, that I am a very good speaker (if I like what I’m yapping about).  Our teacher told us that she said not to give us 100%, we were all affronted, and started planning like little minions.  One girl actually thought we were supposed to have our speeches yesterday, so she had all her supplies.  She gave it already, but the rest of us are going to have to give ours today.  This executive doesn’t know when we’re giving these speeches; just that we’re supposed to do them today.  We’re all evil; we want to sneak them in before she arrives at the school.  That way, when she does stick her head into our classroom, our teacher can tell her we’re already done.

Sorry, lady.  But when you try to tell a teacher to take points off for things, and not to give 100% scores, even though they are rightfully earned, is pathetic.  Thanks, but no thanks!  And I fully intend to wow people today with my speaking.  Like I said, I’m a chatter box if it’s something I enjoy.

And on that note, it’s been real!

Let My Pens Go!

If there is one thing that always ticks me off, it’s when somebody steals my pen(s).  I’m a bit of a pen snob and can’t have just any pens.  I always have to get the Uniball Gel Pens.  They write so smooth and they are like my babies.  However, when I was working more often at the dentist office, people would always take my pens and never return them.  It got to the point where I would reach for my pen holder, and I wouldn’t have anymore pens.  That made me a little ornery.  I started getting more pens and then putting my name on them.  That, or sarcastic ‘don’t take, or else’ phrases on sticky labels on the pens.  This way, even if they did take my pens, I can easily identify them.

But, the pen thieves still strike and take my pens and I have to go hunting for them.  I legitimately have a pen-phobia, but that’s preferred to some other phobias out there.  People sometimes think I’m weird when I walk up to them and say, “Can I please have my pen back?” or “I know you have my pen,” or “You done with that?”  I can go on and on and on.  But, I won’t do that to you.  You guys haven’t stolen my pens… yet.

And on that note, it’s been real!