Not how I wanted to start off the year…

I’m manic today.

Two of my books are missing for my thesis.  Two.  I ordered them from Barnes and Noble a week and a half ago, and as of last night, I hadn’t seen them.  They were delivered by #$(#&$*(@&$ UPS to the BACK door of my apartment building, which is someone else’s private residence.  Usually, when this happens, they put the packages on the back steps leading up to my apartment.  Not so much this time.  I fucking hate UPS, I really do.  And they didn’t even really respond to my complaint, just said that I had to be a registered UPS user to file a complaint.  Fuck you very much.  I’m hoping that one of the boys who live downstairs is home this afternoon and that they have my package.  If they don’t, I’m well and truly screwed for my deadline for next week.

I have double- and triple-booked myself for this week, which is also bad.  I don’t want to spend every waking minute doing thesis but that might just be exactly what I end up doing.  I’m on my fourth cup of coffee today, that should carry me at least until 1 AM.  Lunch was nonexistent — the soup that I had in my car apparently froze and then thawed into sludge and was inedible.  So I’ve had toast and coffee all day, whee.

I have to spend tomorrow afternoon at Verizon (my phone contract with David is up as of today and I need to go on my own plan) and Wednesday afternoon at the DMV (have to register my car in my own name).  What joy is mine.  Yes, I would love to spend something like $1000 this week.  I don’t even HAVE that money in my account, I’m going to have to chip into savings, which really upsets me because I have more in savings than I’ve ever had and I HATE chipping into savings, but at the same time, I knew I would have to do that when I got the car signed over to me ANYWAY, so it’s not the end of the world.  Hoping that I can get a decent phone with my free upgrade through Verizon and that I don’t have to pay for anything really up front.

I do have SOME good news.  After a fruitless six weeks of trying to have my lung issues diagnosed, I finally went to Urgent Care in Newington and they took care of it.  All of my tests (EKG, chest x-ray) came back negative, and I apparently have the heart of an 18 year old (which is awesome), but my cough is horrible, really raspy and hacking, and I’m having trouble breathing.  So the doctor is treating me for pneumonia, bronchitis, and asthma.  I’m on prednisone, a z-pack, and an inhaler.  And I’m happy to say that this battery of meds is working.  I made it through the night on Saturday without choking or gasping for air, and my lungs don’t feel quite so heavy.  So SOMETHING is working.  And that’s great.

I am nine days away from the deadline for my lit review and my perfectionism has resulted in procrastination which has resulted in panic attacks.  The three p’s of being a Virgo.  Amazing.

Work is insanity.  My boss’s email got hacked, and we’ve been inundated with phone calls all day about it.  One of my coworkers is even more manic than I am, and I just got sniped at by a woman who misunderstood me on the phone.

Is it Friday yet?



Today I am a mess.  I realized last night that D’s stupid car payments are still coming out of my bank account, and when I called him to try and rectify the situation, he ignored my phone call and has thus far ignored my texts, except for one excuse saying he could put the money in my PayPal account (I don’t have one), and refusing to respond to any other forms of communication.  I’m not sure where he is, or who he’s with, but I definitely have my suspicions, and I’m betting they are right.  They usually are.

This resulted in a massive panic attack last night, another one today…and today I hurt.

It’s not even because it’s Valentine’s Day (though I could definitely live without the hearts and happy little sentiments on FB all day), and I’m “single.”  If anything, it’s because I just can’t believe sometimes that the person I fell in love with, the man I married, the human being I thought I knew so well, could turn out to be this selfish, this cruel.

How could my judgment have been so poor?

There’s nothing I can do about it now.  I can’t get that $148 back until he deigns to contact me.  I’m seeing Crazy Bruce in about an hour, so that’s…something.  I’m going to my friend Jess’s tonight for “Valentine’s Day” and I made chocolate almond gooey cakes for it.

Nothing to do for now, except say “Ommmmmm” and try to relax.  No sense in worrying about what can’t  be fixed.

There was a bright spot in the last 48 hours.  When I went to D’s yesterday (we’ll skip over how incredibly sketchy he was being about having “things to do” — probably getting ready to go where I think he is right now), I was going through my old nightstand and I found a box of junk jewelry.  It fell open and the contents rained out, and out fell my undergrad class ring, which had been missing for about two years.

My white gold, mother-of-pearl, Salve Regina University class of ’05 ring.  I was so, so happy.  I thought it was gone for good.

(The more astute among you will notice that I’m wearing it on my left hand.  It doesn’t fit on my right ring finger anymore, and I figured today, after the events of last night and this morning, was as good a day as any to stop wearing my wedding band.)

Send help

Guys.  Send help.  Seriously, I feel like I’m drowning in my own mediocrity this week.

Plan was to go to the gym on Wednesday and Friday.  Wednesday did not happen.  Friday is still up in the air.

I haven’t gotten more than about four hours of sleep a night.  None of that is uninterrupted.  I sleep like garbage.  I tried to remedy that by using Law and Order SVU to sleep by (surprisingly, this usually works).  It’s not working right now.

Due to to the financial burdens of separating, my bank account is…sad.  We’ll say sad.  Savings is good, checking blows, D’s car payments this month came out of my bank account instead of his, and though I AM going to get that money back, you can’t get blood from a stone, as they say, and D now owes me $300 for this month.  Super.

Oh, grad school?  BAHAHAHAHAHA.  I am about halfway finished with The Behemoth.  As for reading for my other class…not even close.  I emailed the two Civil War historians on campus, per my thesis adviser’s orders…and they haven’t responded.  Thanks, guys.

I vacillate between “I am okay with getting divorced, this is going to be a new start”, terror about the idea of dating, feeling sick over the idea of divorce, and freaking out because this was not supposed to happen.

Hopefully I’ll be feeling better tomorrow.

We all have to trailblaze sometime, right?

Little bitta backstory:
I started grad school in 2005.  I was supposed to, at least.  I graduated from my undergraduate university in May of 2005, and was set and ready to go in August of 2005 and start grad school.  Disaster (and an SUV) struck me on August 27th, a mere 48 hours before the semester was supposed to start, derailing my graduate career and my life for five months.  When I did get back to school, I was an absolute mess of anxiety, pain, accident-related PTSD, etc., and though I tried to struggle through it, it took two and a half years of slipping grades and horrible anxiety attacks before I realized that maybe going into debt $10,000 a year isn’t a worth it if I’m on the verge of being kicked out of the program.  So I dropped out of school in order to get medicated, get therapy, and get my life back in order.

With me so far?

The downside is, when I finally got my shit together and went back to school in January of 2012, my cumulative GPA was a lousy 2.64.  The standard set by my university is a minimum of 3.0.  Clearly, I had a lot of work to do.

In the last three semesters (Spring ’12, Summer ’12, and Winter ’12), I’ve earned GPAs of 3.85, 3.75, and 4.0, and my cumulative GPA has jumped from 2.64 to 2.97 in a year, which I thought was a pretty awesome jump.  With two semesters to go, I was sure that I would be over the 3.0 by the time I register to write my thesis in Fall ’13, and definitely by graduation.

Unfortunately, yesterday, I received a letter from the Dean of Graduate Studies, informing me that since their standard is a minimum of 3.0, and my GPA is 2.97, I am on academic probation for the Spring ’13 semester.


I bet I’m the only person in the world who ever got put on academic probation a mere three weeks after earning a 4.0.\

It’s one of those “so ludicrous, you can’t help but laugh” situations.  I’m not nervous at all, because unless something else horrific happens to me and I completely lose my mind, I’m not going to miss that 3.0 again this semester, and I’ll be off Ac Prob by Fall ’13.

When I got the letter, David suggested that I print out my grades from last semester (with the 4.0) and frame them and the Ac Prob letter side-by-side.

I might do it.  It’s just too funny.

Friday Bullets

It’s a Friday, and I don’t really have enough going on to do a really sequential, in-depth entry, but I have the itch to write, so you get bullets.

  • Twenty-four hours from now, I will be the somewhat-proud, completely-nervous renter of my first solo apartment since that month I lived alone when I was 24 years old.  I went over there last night and began preliminary organization/assessment of space and what I need.  I also went to Target and bought a whole bunch of boring necessary things (like wastebaskets and a dish drying mat.  No matter what my mother says, I do not need a $17 toilet paper roll holder.  Ridiculous.  Those things can sit in the tiny cabinet in the bathroom.  Or on the back of the toilet for all I care.  (Yet I can totally justify a $12 cosmetics organizer.  Priorities, people!)
  • The douchebag who moved in above us has finally cured my last little bit of sadness over leaving my apartment (other than, you know, missing my husband and his cat), when he decided to obnoxiously let his alarm clock go off six times this morning between the hours of 4:20 AM and 6:30 AM.  I hate him.  Sincerely.  His roommate works with David, and I hear he is a really nice guy, but this douchebag sloth can DIAF.  I didn’t say anything because I’m leaving tomorrow and there doesn’t seem a point in making enemies when you have 24 hours to spend with these people.
  • I’m moving out tomorrow, but spending my first night there on Sunday, since I’m going to an “old people sleepover” on Saturday night.  Do I think this is a good plan?  Um, yes.  We’re going to eat comfort food and watch Netflix and knit and stay up late.  I am immensely looking forward to it.  I think it’s pretty much exactly what I need this weekend.  And I must make my mac and cheese to bring up to it.  This is critical.
  • I’m really glad that the move coincides with the busiest, most fun weeks of November.  Monday is the only day that I have nothing planned besides work and I really think I will be okay.  Tuesday I have my paper conference and tea with my good friend Jim.  Wednesday is the annual day my mom, sister and I kick off the holiday season by playing Christmas music while baking our Thanksgiving pies.  Thursday is, of course, Thanksgiving.  Friday is recuperating (I don’t “do” Black Friday) and Saturday is Drea and Sam’s annual “Friendsgiving” or “Thanksgiving the Second” or whatever they call it.  So it will be a nice, busy, occupied week, and hopefully I won’t be too weepy or miss my therapist, Crazy Bruce, too much.
  • Due to the aforementioned douchebaggery this morning, I woke up extremely overtired, with puffy eyes.  Because I am a sucker for samples, I decided to use the tiny packet of Clinique Even Better Eyes Dark Circle Corrector this morning.  HOLY SHIT does that stuff work!  My eyes looked bright and alert and de-puffed afterward.  Sold.  Except for the part where I looked up how much it cost online for the real thing.  $39.50.  THIS IS WHY YOU ARE SNEAKY, SEPHORA.  You get in with your samples and make people fall in love with your stuff.  I can’t justify $39.50 right now.  Period.
  • I have to go through Ravelry and pick out presents for my friends for Christmas.  Yes, I knit them stuff.  They appreciate it, being knitters themselves.  I have a lot to organize!

That’s pretty much it.  I wish I had a more scintillating, cohesive journal entry for today, but that’s kind of where I’m at right now.  I’ll probably have more  later this weekend when stuff is moved in and I’m done sorting it all out.

Peace and all that.

Hurricane Sandy: If you can read this, be grateful

I’m almost afraid to say it, but I think the worst is over in Connecticut.

I am absolutely stunned and infuriated by the number of people I see online complaining that Hurricane Sandy was overhyped and that they didn’t get any damage or lose power after preparing.  People are actually calling this a “non-event.”

I bet the millions of people without power across the Eastern Seaboard don’t consider it a non-event.

I bet the thousands who are now homeless, or evacuated because their homes are currently underwater along coastal NY, NJ, CT, and MA don’t consider it a non-event.

I bet the families of the poor souls who were killed because of the storm don’t consider it a non-event.

Listen: if you, your family, your house, your car, your pets, your property, belongings and electricity were spared, do society a favor.  Keep your mouth shut, thank whatever deity you believe in that you and yours are healthy and warm and safe, and maybe stick your neck out and do something for those who were less fortunate than yourself.