Monday, February 22, 2010


That's right, I'll have a blog post with a side of lame.

Look, I'll be honest. I'm having a hard time writing anything. It killed me to open this window and hit "new post." I think that's why I haven't posted it in three days. That was an attempt at introversion in what has been a very extrovert-demanding week. I feel like I've been trying to hide in the corner and reclaim my sanity for a few days.

I just didn't want to whine about how hard this weekend/week is, and that's all I've been able to think about. I'm exhausted. And I don't feel like being exhausted because your husband is about to take the Bar is in the realm of acceptable human experiences for blog posting. But it's also well within my side of the Venn Diagram of reality this week. I'm fragile right now, and nervous, and so proud of E and how hard he's worked, and tired. And it's that kind of sad tired.

Here's lookin' at you, person who asked why I don't post very many pics of myself. This is why. Pale, eyebrows worn off, mascara running down my face, sad-lookin' me. THIS close to tears at any minute. Henry captured it well, no? If my life were any more pathetic this week, I'd be one of the Walkers.

Today would have been one giant FML, if I was the type of person to type or say "FML" without giving second (and third) thought to the F part. You know, because this is the internets and I have to watch what I put on them. Anyway, my WASC report was due today (ended up being 10,000 words and about 22 pages--oh snap!) and I turned in my polished final draft promptly at 11:00 (so I could make a run for the border before my next class started), only to be simultaneously handed a copy of the previous draft full of changes that needed to be made. Which, apparently, hadn't been significant enough for me to receive before the due date. There I stood, all full of the excitement of finishing a project, and those edits just knocked the wind out of me like a punch in the stomach. To make matters worse, I didn't bring any food to work so the fact that I was going to spend my lunch editing and working meant no Taco Bell. The Taco Bell sealed it and I burst promptly into fifteen year old girl's first boyfriend dumps her in the quad on the same day she starts her period-tears.

It worked out--a friend brought me a PB&J and I finished the draft with the new old changes, but the emotional toll had already hit and the rest of the day felt swollen and drunken with that post-cry haze. I'm typically an emotional person, but I'm not proud of the fact that my eyes welled up in my principal's office. But I just saw it as inevitable that by the time I made it back to the privacy of my room, I sat down and let the tears pool on my cheeks like blood into a syringe. I needed the release. I needed to extract all that emotion. I'm reminded of a recent episode of House I watched where he plunged a giant syringe into a girl's chest to pull fluid from her lungs so she could breathe. But I didn't want to be that girl--you know, the one who can't take anything at work and so leaves and cries. Confident women don't do that.

I also knew enough about me and my special brand of crazy to know it wasn't the draft or the frustration that made me spin on my heel and charge toward the protection of my empty classroom. It was the tail-end of several long weeks, the unwinding of the yarns of worry I'd knit together. It was the inevitable revelation that my brave face is a facade to get me through.

I'm scared. I'm not worried that E won't do his best; I'm worried because I want this to work out for him. It's been a string of rejection for him--all on the heels of our near divorce--and the dude needs this for himself. I'm nervous because I can't do it for him, and I want it so badly for him. I'm covetous for that win. Homeboy needs a break.

The stress of crying at work and reshaping myself back into the mold of "respectable educator" weren't bad enough, apparently. I came home and got the third episode of migraine aura this week. I'm seriously just waiting for the real migraine to hit now. Oh, and I've got some serious pre-Crazies. And did I mention that I burned my thumb clean off this morning with an ill-directed reach for my comb that landed square on the ceramic plate of my flat iron?


I plan to self-medicate tonight with brownies. Don't try to stop me. I'm beyond help.


  1. Brownies cure all!
    I wish E the best of luck on the bar! And I wish you luck getting through a tough week. :-)

  2. Aw, man... a tough week indeed. In 4 days it will be better. I'm sorry you are feeling all the stress and had a rough day at school. I would have cried too - for the record. We are thinking of you guys this week and praying that E will be awesome and you guys will get through it as smoothly as possible. I'm thinking it's time for lemon drops this weekend (and whatever E likes). :)

  3. Brownies DO cure all! I know what you mean about writing.. what seemed like a great idea a month or so ago (the blog) is now turning sour. I feel like I've run out of material already!

    As for "FML" - I absolutely hate that acronym. I mean.. it just is horrible. Even more horrible is someone will say "they ran out of taco sauce, FML" as if that seriously is going to screw up their life. Aaaaaaaahhhhh.. maybe that's my blog topic for tonight? hehe.. we'll see...

  4. Perhaps you should accompany those Brownies with some Baileys...or maybe something stronger.
    Still thinking good thoughts and praying for you and E!

  5. Good luck to Eric with the bar exam. I can relate to what you're feeling. It was hard when Michael was getting his Ph.D. because all I could really do was sit there and worry. I couldn't study for him, write papers for him, or help him on his oral exams. No fun! Anyway, good luck to Eric and to you, you deserve it.

  6. I'm the one that asked why don't you post more pictures of yourself. I think you look beautiful. You look real, authentic, honest and open. You look full of emotion and drained at the same time. You still look beautiful. Yours is the beauty that is improved without makeup and best in its natural and authentic form.

    E is a lucky man. I'm glad he recognized it and that you two are together. You have your hands full with work, home, family, husband, hobby and life in general. You handle it with grace. You handle it as well as any human could.

    I stumbled onto your blog from your posts on Runner's World. I have enjoyed the way you bare yourself to the world in this format. It heartens me and gives me strength to handle my own issues as I watch you struggle and persevere handling your own. Thank you.

    I read your posts and I wonder about my own periods of despair, joy, struggle and triumph. I enjoy seeing your perspective of life and use it to help me see things from my wife's point of view.

    You have a kind heart. A good heart. You care for your husband so much that you feel his worry, his trepidation, his fear and his pain as if they were your own.

    E is a lucky man. You are a good woman, mother, wife and friend.

    Thank you for the insights into your life. Thank you for posting a picture of yourself. Simply, Thank You...