Some days you just feel defeated from the moment you blindly slam the alarm clock and regret such commitments such as morning classes. Okay, it doesn't start until ten, but I gotta be up by seven to leave the house by eight to get to the university preschool by nine and make it to class by ten. Whew. It was exhausting just saying that.
Yesterday was supposed to go smooth. I stayed up way past my ten o'clock bedtime reading and studying in order to finally catch up. I was feeling tired, but confident about making it through class. But, ugh, group work. Sometime it's tolerable, like when it's in a classroom setting and you are forced to awkwardly converse or role-play with that weird long-haired dude who might actually be, no, definitely is, twice your age. But, yesterday I thought would be a breeze. Four smart, intelligent, and quite pretty girls writing a two page analysis of one chapter of a novel. Cake. Right?
I had never met one of the girls in my group. I guess you could say we were either too much alike, or...completely opposite. I think she was crazy, because she was driving me to talk to myself. I had to stare far away from her, into the library books around us and tell myself, Don't say it, just walk away, no, don't walk away, that would be immature, just politely agree, but she makes no sense. So, I stayed on and endured, but didn't hold back completely. My friend in the group totally avoided making eye contact with me because she could tell I might just go off any moment. Explode my pressurized word ammunition with no holds barred at this pretty little thing.
But remember the crappy thing about making a scene at school? You have to see everyone again at the next class. So, I couldn't be mean, as much as I reeeeaaaaallllllyyyy wanted to! Maybe I've been watching too much Chelsea Lately and she is igniting my inner bitch. The two classes that followed this mind grating experience tested my inner strength even more, the fun surely didn't stop at group homework time. I dealt with irritating people, then my first graded assignments turned back with "barely okay, could be good," and an intense workshop on a lame catalogue poem I wrote about my closet. Gotta appreciate honest feedback. Really. It's great. Very character-building, I think. But, remedy for shitty day? DISNEYLAND, bitches!
I dreamed all night of our plans to celebrate at my favorite place with my sister for my niece's 5th bday. The sky was So-Cal blue and cloudless, the crowds were not suffocating, lines were fifteen minutes, kids were happy...ahhh, a child's happiness, more impressive is the happiness of four children under five and no major meltdowns, which by itself makes a great day. Although, while driving home in traffic, which was right at the kids' bedtime, I looked over at my husband and said "Maybe we should go alone next time?" and he smiled in agreement. Back home. Kids are alseep, thanks to the long car ride, and I already have to snap back into the reality of doing homework due tomorrow.
But I will dream of Disneyland, and resent my alarm.
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