I am back, having been away at a very important pug conference in sunny Fort Lauderdale. I attended some enlightening sessions; my favorites being “Our Pugs, Ourselves” and “Wrinkle Rot and You,” but the real fun started after hours. You know the Snoop Dogg song, La di da di, we likes to paw-ty? Of course you do, player. Well that was us at the Fort Lauderdale Pug Convention. The humans paw-ty and the pugs potty. As a unexpected yet pleasant surprise, this year nobody was accidentally murdered in his or her hotel room and subsequently eaten by his or her pugs.
What else has been going on? Well, I only had the best Christmas and Samaria’s birthday/New Year’s Day of my entire life. That might sound obnoxious, but truly, not every Christmas is easy for me. This one was all peace and joy. I loved every minute spent with all my family.
There are other things to note.
Finals week hell
I survived! A semester of sleep deprivation, emotionally-driven junk food binges, overgrown eyebrows, and general stress culminated in (1) an epic sickness/cold/bout of TB and (2) finals week. I’ve talked about the cold but not so much about finals.
The final for my hard math class – the one Brent and I are taking together – was set for today, Friday the 20th, the last day of finals week. I requested this day off from work well in advance, wanting to have the entire day to prepare for what I knew was going to be a difficult final.
Thursday came around and I was feeling in control of my world. I had two finals to take – the hard one on Friday, and my Mythology final, which I could take on either Thursday or Friday. The time of the Mythology final was flexible because it was an online class. I had already done the bulk of studying for that class and felt I was well on my way to conquering these two finals. Hashtag lifehack, am I right?
Well, you don’t need to be the Oracle at Delphi to guess that derailment happened. 8:00 AM Thursday, I was sitting at my work cubicle and decided to check the finals schedule to confirm the time of the math final. Because I’m responsible, right? You can imagine my disbelief when I went to the website and the time shown was 1:30 pm on Thursday. Thursday! Mere hours away. Ha ha, yeah right, I told the computer. I backed out of the website to make sure I had selected the correct semester and year. It turns out – I had.
My denial was still raging so I thought it would be wise to check the website using a different browser.
It was not a browser issue. It was an I-checked-the-syllabus-once-way-back-at-the-beginning-of-the-semester-which-said-the-final-would-be-on-December-19-and-then-when-I-checked-the-calender-to-see-what-day-that-would-fall-on-I-misread-that-December-19-would-occur-on-Friday-when-really-it-was-on-a-Thursday issue.
The acceptance sank in, but panic didn’t come immediately. Rather, the bad-idea lobe of my brain started talking nonsense about pretending I had not double-checked when the final was, then studying that night as planned and ‘realizing’ my error on Friday by showing up to a final that nobody else was at, and finally, contacting my teacher and begging for a chance to retake the final. “Yes, yes,” Bad Idea Lobe crowed, “This will work! You can pull this off and it will be glorious!”
Fortunately, I didn’t allow myself to be seduced by Bad Idea Lobe. “That’s a terrible plan that will only cause me more stress in the long run,” I scolded. “Maybe instead of coming up with dumbo ideas, you could help the part of our brain that is supposed to read calenders.”
Then, the panic set in. Luckily (so luckily) my boss was cool with me taking the rest of the day off. I rushed home and banged on the bedroom door, where Brent was still asleep. “Brent, you need to wake up now. Our final’s in a few hours. I got the date wrong. Brent, did you hear me? I got the date wrong! The final is today!”
That was the only good part about getting the day of the final wrong – that I got to bang on the door in a melodramatic fashion and frighten Brent. If I was not the nice gal I am, I might have shouted, “Zombies, Brent! The dead have risen! Get your ass in gear now now NOW!”
You might be wondering why Brent didn’t notice that the final was on Thursday and not Friday. This is because he even is more calender-challenged than I am. At least once a week he’ll ask me what day it is. Not the date, but the day, as in he’s not sure if it is Sunday or Wednesday. I could have told him the final was on Fritunday and he would’ve shrugged and said, “A’ight.”
Brent got up and we studied our behinds off for several hours and made it to the final on the right day and time. Whew! Finals – check.
I am not taking any classes for the upcoming spring semester. I read an interesting quote by a guy named David Allen – you can do anything, but you can’t do everything. On that line of thinking, I have decided to focus on a few sacred goals for myself. I plan to write more about that soon. Focus is the theme of 2014. Focus.
Guess what? I’m sick again with another cold. I had just gotten over the first cold too. I’m going to be a convalescent forever. My sickness-related Google searches have intensified from “How to make a homemade Netipot” to “Do I have pneumonia?” At work, I feel gross and germy with all my coughing and kleenexes. I think it is wasteful to use a kleenex once and throw it away, so I’ll have like five kleenexes going at a time. That doesn’t make sense though. Why wouldn’t I use one kleenex until it’s completely covered and then move on? Am I waiting for Kleenex 1 to dry out or something? Hmmm, I may have to rethink that paradigm. Anyway, on Tuesday, C.B. brought in cupcakes for Cher’s birthday and every time I opened the lid to get a cupcake, I felt the need to announce, “I sanitized my hands!” Which, in turn, called attention to all the cupcakes I was eating. I hate being sick.
Until next time. Maybe I will be all better by then.