Currently trying to study for another medical term test, but my brain was like, “Hey, remember that blog you used to have?” Yes. “Do you think you’d like to write on it, seeing as you gave up Facebook for the weekend to study?” Yep.
So here I am.
It’s been quite some time since I’ve felt like writing- at all. Sure, I have little random sentences that I scratch down on receipts or punch out on Twitter. Just nothing of solid content that I felt like writing about. This blog post probably won’t be that exciting either. I am also burnt out on studying about the conduction pathways of our heart, the different sections of the lungs and trying to remember how to spell TRIIODTHYRONINE.
Being back in school is weird for me. I started off slow, just taking two classes, because it’s been twenty years since I’ve been in a classroom setting. Let me tell you, SHIT IS DIFFERENT NOW. Everything is online. Teaching is online. Online. Online. Online. Discussion board, ONLINE. Registration, ONLINE. Email. Email. Email.
Robots, all of us.
Just kidding. That’s my age talking (not kidding).
More than likely, I’ll be changing my major, because I just don’t give a shit about muscles and how your diet is effecting them. I don’t want to take a test where the professor lays bones on the table and says, “What are those?” Damn Daniel, what are they? (God I hope you guys get that pop culture reference). I started off as a PTA, then went back to my original idea to become a registered dietitian, but honestly… I just want to be a goofy art or history teacher.
That’s where I belong.
So, here I am, putting off more studying (which I’ve been doing so much of). At least three times a week I have a panic attack because I can’t pass this one math test and I still have another chapter to finish before the end of the semester and people, TIME MOVES SO FAST. Only it doesn’t move fast when I’m work. But we all knew that already.
Aside from school, it’s been everyday life per usual.
Well, there was the time a few weeks ago raw sewage spewed back into the downstairs bathroom and we had to use tupperware and tiny trashcans to … well, scoop it out. The house smelled like a wet fart for days. We still haven’t managed to put the new toilet in (we have it, just haven’t had time to install it). Then, the oven went out. Did I mention we’re hosting Thanksgiving this year with my brother in law and his wife? No? Mmmhmm.
We are going to see Helmet next Friday and I’m super pumped about that (twice in nearly a year and half)! Their new album came out and they’re doing a tour- a part of me secretly hopes they play some old tunes again as well. The day before Thanksgiving we’re going to The Stuffing in downtown to see some of our fave indie bands and I AM SO STOKED. Nothing makes me happier than to go to shows with my son and my husband. Not that I want to rush my son growing up anymore than he already he is, but at least when he’s 18 we’ll be able to get him into more shows. Over the summer we paid $13 bucks to see our favorite band Tiny Moving Parts, with a handful of other bands, and it was the most phenomenal night of my life! Not only did the set list kick ass, but we got to meet the guys after the show. I was honestly surprised how many people just jumped ship and left. The guys were nice enough to take pictures with us all, sign everything and anything for the kids and just talk music in general. I also noticed the drummer from another awesome band was working the merch table, so of course I had to get that Mom photo op in! He couldn’t believe MD was my son. No one ever does and those thirty seconds after they realize he’s my kid is awkward. For both of us.
MD is now the age where servers bring him his own check, ask me if the bill is together or separate and most recently, Mrs. Claus and the elves at the mall thought we were boyfriend/girlfriend. I’m not sure if people are stroking my ego or if they honestly are in disbelief he is my son. I have half a head of gray hair people and I wear sensible flats with comfortable jeans. COME ON. I will say that yesterday’s episode with the elf and the Mrs. Claus was the most uncomfortable I’ve been about the whole, “YOU’RE HIS MOM?” scenario. I was giving MD a hard time about not taking a picture with me and was pretend crying. The elf wouldn’t drop it though. She was just going on and on and finally I wanted to say, “Look elf, we need to go look at some sneakers in Macy’s, so peace!”
The time changed this morning, so now I’m watching it get dark and it’s not quite six p.m. I’m listening to The Sundays (ha! On a Sunday) and trying to relax. My entire universe feels so out of whack lately. Tonight before bed, I’ll do some T’ai Chi and hopefully sink into a restful slumber.
In between homework and other grown ass lady responsibilities, I’m still knitting. I finished a magical shawl that took me an eternity, but I got it done. I finished another shawl and I’m wrapping up a UT Vols type deal for my husband. I have a baby blanket in the works and I’ve also been doing more doodling.
Two weekends ago I went up to Nashville and took my son and his friends to get hot chicken on the East side of town. As I was approaching the bench outside, I noticed a guy sitting behind us that looked so much like Chandler, that my heart got stuck in my throat. It was his younger self. Same eyes, devilishly good looks and that smile. I kept looking back at him to make sure, to triple check, quadruple check. It was tough. On the way home, MD even mentioned how crazy it was that the guy looked like him. Perhaps a head nod from the Universe and from Fritz himself.
I suppose that’s all I’ve got for right now.
Maybe later on tonight I’ll look for a 30 day writing prompt and go from there. I do miss writing on the ole blog. Facebook can get kind of boring with all that political hate/shit throwing going on right now.
Quick, how do you spell a thyroid stimulating hormone drug?