outer-jessie's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- cabin fever Wow, it is only twenty past one? Really? Huh. No, it's fine. It's all right, I can handle it. *sound of things careening through the air, crashing into each other, plummeting to the ground; the bestial grunts and gutteral whining of a caged animal echo hollowly from far off* What? No, I didn't hear anything. I've decided to work on getting certified to teach in Massachusetts over the summer. Anyone ever done this before? I think I'll call and ask to speak to an advisor or something, to make sure I have the proper instructions for a person who has never studied education and has no prior experience. If someone's going to say "no way, who the hell are you to teach?", I'd like to know about it before I go on my merry way. You know how I was going to stop by the mall yesterday? I ended up being there for over four hours. What do I have to show for this time investment? A two dollar blue shirt, whose twin I have in gray, that I bought during the first ten minutes I was there; thirty ridiculous dollars worth of dinner; a trail of discarded dresses that could clothe a vast legion of 5 foot 2 women. I didn't even find the presents that were my whole reason for going! I'm an utter failure, and I partook in greasy cheesy foodstuffs to add further insult to injury. Or injury to insult, in this case. You couldn't tell, but I was just gone for twenty minutes, looking at the teaching program at Harvard. I could do this. But I can't do it yet. There's going to have to be a two-year plan in effect. I hate that it's going to take so long...but two years isn't that bad, so I should just chill. Actually it's more like a three year plan, since this year isn't over. Ok, it'll go something like this. For the next nine months, I work here, diligently and devotedly. I save up lots of money; let's say nine grand by December. Then in December, I apply to the master's program at Harvard. Oops! Duhhh....again, you can't have known this, but I was just called to a meeting, the idea of which was mine (or rather, the reminder of which was me), that I forgot to go to. Wooooops. They're useful because then I start to understand the things that we do and why, but never mind, because I've been gone for a half an hour and lost my train of thought. Two year plan. Check. Sit here, wait, amass small fortune, apply to Harvard grad program, study for a year, get married, get licensed, proceed with rest of life. Check. And speaking of checks, I finally got reiumbursed for the class I took last semester, today. 'Bout time. And speaking of classes, the one I'm taking (ha ha, taking. More like watching) makes no sense to me and is all the more despressing as of today, when I discovered that the students are 95% freshman. And speaking of depressing, during my forty-five minute wait for a table at the Cheesecake Factory at the mall for my dinner, I had the opportunity to do a little people-watching. One of the people I watched was a woman who had recently returned from a trip to Washington D.C. and was describing the Arlington Cemetery to her friends. "It was very depressing," she said, in a tone which could just have easily been used to say, "It was very grassy." I decided she was an idiot. That is the conclusion I come to regarding most people. Why does Frederick's of Hollywood keep insisting that three pairs of underwear is enough to constitute an "underwear wardrobe"? I have an intense desire to listen to the Stone Temple Pilots. I can call them that in writing; when I try to say this name out loud, it sounds like Stone Tel'm Pilots. It's just what happens. When I try to say 62k, which I have to say often (it's a work thing), it comes out sixt't'kay. I physically cannot slow these words down. Those and Christmas Tree Shop. Which is weird, because I can say Christmas tree just fine. Ways to get through the next nine months without killing self or others: 1) Go cruise shopping. No need to scrimp and save now that I'll be here another 14 months. 2) Enjoy Easter. Enjoy lots of things. 3) Move out of apartment. 4) Look forward to cruise; only a month and a half away. Hey, cool! 5) Graduations. 6) Angie's wedding. 7) Spend time with friends. 8) Go on a hot air balloon ride. 9) Get a puppy. Or a kitten, if you must. 10) Enjoy the summer, preferrably with air conditioning, as guilty as that makes you feel for the environment. 11) Start Christmas shopping. 12) Start wedding planning. 13) Bake a nice cake for Thanksgiving. Or something. 14) Write your letter of intent to Harvard grad school. Day to day? That's the hardest part. If you wanna know the truth, hour to hour is the worst. 1) Verify and validate until your fingers go numb. 2) Work on the damn research you've been ignoring for months. 3) Keep AP tidy and clean. 4) Test the stupid gapfiller script that you've been ignoring since you got it. 5) Respond to emails you've been ignoring. 6) Chat with buddies in diaryland chat. 7) Read some more James Joyce online. 8) Check your email at Planet Out. Blah. I know it'll still be hard. I also know that although I've entered these lists without returns and have kept them neat and tight, when diaryland take them, they'll be altered into big spaced-out jagged lists with returns after every line. It's not *that* hard. Kindly don't think of me as a self-pitying brat who can't appreciate her well-paying job. I do appreciate it. I appreciate that it pays my bills, doesn't ask much of me, and seems to think I do pretty well here. It's just too bad that it feels like such a waste of time. I'll get over it. This year can only be better than last year. Last summer, I spent whole days doing nothing but kill time. *That* was pretty bad. :) Hey, I wonder if I can take education classes next year while I wait. Signing off...10-4, over and out 1:18 p.m. - 2002-03-21 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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