So here’s my week:
1. I’m blogging over at SMP authors today, where I’m chatting about how my husband and I managed to get married right in the middle of midterms my Senior year in college. Oh, and there’s a picture of me eating french fries in my wedding dress, for those of you who are interested. Here’s the link.
2. I’m still thinking about the PhD. I think, between husband and I, we’ve managed to come up with a way that it might be doable. Now I just have to hone my grant writing skills.
3. Work sucked. I have never cried so much about what’s going on there in my life. And then I realized I’m taking this entirely too seriously. I should be able to accept “People are stupid,” and move on, right? So why can’t I just do that? Accept that not everyone will agree with me, and move on?
Don’t know why I have such a problem with people making mistakes. It’s their lives, not mine. After all, I let my kid make mistakes.
Husband says I have to not care so much about work. Not sure how to do that, though.
4. Husband left town for a few days. He’s at gun school, and won’t be back until our anniversary. Actually, it’s a lot like our wedding: we took a long weekend, and then he went to gun school for a week, followed by training… uh… somewhere? We used to joke that we took separate honeymoons. Except that I stayed in my parents’ basement and took midterms; he shot automatic weapons. Oh, wait, that does describe us pretty perfectly. I like school, he likes guns.
5. My soccer team got killed on Saturday. I recognize the success of superior coaching, but in my defense, all of my girls were pretty lifeless. By half time, we referred to ourselves as “Zombie pixies.” Also, when I asked them what they learned during the game, it was,
Kid: “We really need to run faster. Oh, and to score.”
Me: “No. What do you think we’ve learned?”
Kid: “That we are really terrible when we’re tired?”
Me: “Well, that too. But can you think of some things we need to improve?”
Kid 2: “Who brought snacks?”
Me: “I don’t know. Now, before we start the next quarter–”
Kid 3, groaning: “We have another quarter?”
Kid 4: “Duh. We have another half, where we will get eaten alive.”
Me: “We’re zombies, honey. We eat them alive, not the other way around. C’mon, let’s do our cheer.”
KIds: “One. Two. Three. Go. Pixies.” (They could have been saying “Groan, moan, whatever. Pixies” for all the enthusiasm in the cheer.)
Me: Moans like a zombie.
Kids: Moan like zombies and wander onto the field. Slowly. Very slowly.
At least it got a laugh.