I think I have a case of goal overload. There's my reading goal, my running goal, my grad school application goal, my getting ready for the GREs goal, my cleaning the house enough so it doesn't look like my life is in shambles goal, and my getting my financial life in order goal... I miss the days when I felt unaccomplished and inadequate in just one life category instead of six. It's summer. It's hot. Why must I still be a productive member of society?
I did have a pleasant surprise this week when I remembered that my vacation is coming up. (Not really sure how I forgot, but whatever.) And by vacation I mean hanging out with my family for two days, then going to Erie for three. Not a long vacation, but a necessary one. And have I mentioned that both my parents' house and Erie are well-stocked with wine? Perhaps when I can sleep in every day and drink I'll be relaxed enough to accomplish things. Or I'll just be sleepy and drunk. Same thing?
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Saturday, July 17, 2010
I probably wouldn't walk 500 miles... definitely not 500 more
I'm still running. I have almost completed week two of my training program. Two weeks! It's the longest I've ever committed to an exercise routine, as sad as that is.
Today I have a major case of the blahs. Saturdays are supposed to be a long, slow run. Keri mapped out a four-mile route that leads us into Oakland and then back to Squirrel Hill, so this morning we drove around to scope it out. Realization: four miles is long. A lot longer, apparently, than the three miles we did last week. Really freaking long. So Keri is bouncing around the house, stretching, pumping herself up, and I'm in bed with a cup of yogurt trying to wrap my head around this. I know that it will be fine and I'll probably feel completely amazing afterwards (just like my sluggish Tuesday when I realized that running in the rain is the equivalent of a zillion gallons of coffee), but running through Pittsburgh has a totally different vibe than running along a single trail that is basically a straight line.
Other things to accomplish this weekend: writing my personal statement for my grad school applications. Oh yeah, that's happening. I signed up to take the GREs in a month. I'm super pumped to have an excuse to study vocab again.
Okay, wish me luck. I'm about to go participate in physical exertion. 63 days until the half-math!
Today I have a major case of the blahs. Saturdays are supposed to be a long, slow run. Keri mapped out a four-mile route that leads us into Oakland and then back to Squirrel Hill, so this morning we drove around to scope it out. Realization: four miles is long. A lot longer, apparently, than the three miles we did last week. Really freaking long. So Keri is bouncing around the house, stretching, pumping herself up, and I'm in bed with a cup of yogurt trying to wrap my head around this. I know that it will be fine and I'll probably feel completely amazing afterwards (just like my sluggish Tuesday when I realized that running in the rain is the equivalent of a zillion gallons of coffee), but running through Pittsburgh has a totally different vibe than running along a single trail that is basically a straight line.
Other things to accomplish this weekend: writing my personal statement for my grad school applications. Oh yeah, that's happening. I signed up to take the GREs in a month. I'm super pumped to have an excuse to study vocab again.
Okay, wish me luck. I'm about to go participate in physical exertion. 63 days until the half-math!
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Someone please help
Twice this week I have done something completely shocking and mildly disgusting. I ran. Recreationally. What is happening here?
It all started when our beloved suitemate Sarah came into town for the Fourth of July. We vegged, we drank, we went to the zoo, Sarah convinced us to train for a half marathon that's two months away, we watched the fireworks over Oakland, we rode the incline... all in all, a fun weekend. Except for the half marathon part... you know, where Sarah completely disrupted my entire way of life. Whatever. Suddenly I'm on a running schedule. There are miles and codes and all sorts of insanity. I even bought running shoes last night to replace my Walmart sneakers that I only wear occasionally as a "hey, look at my purple sneakers!" statement. I bought running clothes that aren't baggy shorts I've owned since high school. I even know what cross training is. Something is seriously amiss.
No decision yet on whether I will actually be doing the halfmath in September. Right now my plan is to train for a month, get into a healthy lifestyle, and then decide whether to do the marathon. Basically the decision will be made based on how pathetic I feel walking 13.5 miles with a bunch of uber-athletes. Although I would probably blend in thanks to my new wardrobe...
It all started when our beloved suitemate Sarah came into town for the Fourth of July. We vegged, we drank, we went to the zoo, Sarah convinced us to train for a half marathon that's two months away, we watched the fireworks over Oakland, we rode the incline... all in all, a fun weekend. Except for the half marathon part... you know, where Sarah completely disrupted my entire way of life. Whatever. Suddenly I'm on a running schedule. There are miles and codes and all sorts of insanity. I even bought running shoes last night to replace my Walmart sneakers that I only wear occasionally as a "hey, look at my purple sneakers!" statement. I bought running clothes that aren't baggy shorts I've owned since high school. I even know what cross training is. Something is seriously amiss.
No decision yet on whether I will actually be doing the halfmath in September. Right now my plan is to train for a month, get into a healthy lifestyle, and then decide whether to do the marathon. Basically the decision will be made based on how pathetic I feel walking 13.5 miles with a bunch of uber-athletes. Although I would probably blend in thanks to my new wardrobe...
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Top Five Ways I Spend My Time At Work
1. Calling students (very easy to do while also doing one or more of the following)
2. Playing email trivia with coworkers
3. Giggling out loud to things like this and hoping no one notices
4. Fiction section. It's like a book you can read at your cubicle! (because I get very resentful when my breaks are over and I can no longer read whatever book I brought to work with me... currently Outliers: The Story of Success which is really engrossing)
5. Going on to news websites, reading a few grown-up articles, and then seeing this
So if it's ever a weekday between the hours of 9 and 6 and you need to know where to find me, there you go. And if it's a Saturday like this one and you need to know what I'm doing, you should also consult this list. Only today they're bringing in pizza, so that will probably rank 3rd on the list. Life is much better now that I've mastered the art of shamelessly surfing the net at work.
2. Playing email trivia with coworkers
3. Giggling out loud to things like this and hoping no one notices
4. Fiction section. It's like a book you can read at your cubicle! (because I get very resentful when my breaks are over and I can no longer read whatever book I brought to work with me... currently Outliers: The Story of Success which is really engrossing)
5. Going on to news websites, reading a few grown-up articles, and then seeing this
So if it's ever a weekday between the hours of 9 and 6 and you need to know where to find me, there you go. And if it's a Saturday like this one and you need to know what I'm doing, you should also consult this list. Only today they're bringing in pizza, so that will probably rank 3rd on the list. Life is much better now that I've mastered the art of shamelessly surfing the net at work.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Commitment
Progression of emails from my roommate throughout the course of my workday:
"I'm just looking at some info for grad school"
"I found a program I like..."
"Hey, they have a program for you, too!"
"We could both start in January!"
"We're going here."
Naturally this magical school is not in Pittsburgh, but in D.C., which requires quite a bit of planning. Imagine a haphazard decision tree involving scenarios for both of us getting accepted, both of us getting accepted and not wanting to go, only one of us getting accepted and wanting to go, neither of us getting accepted but still wanting to go...
Basically the roommate and I have progressed into a very committed domestic partnership that requires us to be in the same city. The good news is, my mom is totally okay with the relationship so long as we have a proper commitment ceremony. I guess she doesn't want me living in sin any longer.
It's times like this I'm reminded of someone else who had trouble weighing his options for the future. But after an entire episode of internal struggle, he made a very mature decision:
"I'm just looking at some info for grad school"
"I found a program I like..."
"Hey, they have a program for you, too!"
"We could both start in January!"
"We're going here."
Naturally this magical school is not in Pittsburgh, but in D.C., which requires quite a bit of planning. Imagine a haphazard decision tree involving scenarios for both of us getting accepted, both of us getting accepted and not wanting to go, only one of us getting accepted and wanting to go, neither of us getting accepted but still wanting to go...
Basically the roommate and I have progressed into a very committed domestic partnership that requires us to be in the same city. The good news is, my mom is totally okay with the relationship so long as we have a proper commitment ceremony. I guess she doesn't want me living in sin any longer.
It's times like this I'm reminded of someone else who had trouble weighing his options for the future. But after an entire episode of internal struggle, he made a very mature decision:
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Australia, anyone?
I'm sorry, I know it's been a while. If it's any consolation, there hasn't been much going on.
I'm currently sprawled on my bed pretending that our house is air conditioned and I'm not actually that sweaty. The windows are open, and the neighborhood kids are shrieking roughly half a block away. Does someone on this street have a pool? These are the shrieks I normally associate with ten or more adolescents fighting over noodles and scuba masks.
It's been a rough few weeks at work. I went through a two-and-a-half week drought in terms of applications, conversations, feelings of hope... everything, really. Then this past week I added two new students to my books. Unfortunately, the spike in activity didn't lead to the spike in mood that I expected. That part was actually more disappointing than the drought. I have just over two weeks left before our start, and (assuming my two students from this week start classes) I still need two more students to meet my quota. Quota. I hate how much this word has been slipping out of my mouth lately. I hate that it's crossed my mind even more frequently. Deadlines? Fine, bring them on. Evaluations? Okay, whatever. But quotas? I don't like the idea of turning my students into numbers on a spreadsheet. And I know that it's not as bad as that, but I still feel... not myself.
The true tragedy? When I was in my super emo funk and wanted nothing more than to crawl under my desk and eat Doritos all day, I decided that one thing in the world would probably cheer me up immensely. I decided to google image the last two pages of one of my childhood favorites, Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by Judith Viorst. For those of you who were born before the 80's and/or sadly deprived as children, the premise is that a little boy named Alexander is having one of those epic "the world is against me" kind of days that little kids seem especially good at having. Throughout the book he claims that he's just going to move to Australia. But the last two sentences of the book are, "My mom says some days are like that. Even in Australia." And, given my recent desire to abandon ship and run away on an amazing never-ending vacation, I find myself constantly thinking about Alexander and his oh-so-wise mother. However, try google imaging the book. Good luck finding those pages. I'm going to wind up improvising, but how fitting is it that the one thing in the world I wanted as a pick-me-up was impossible to find? Maybe if I tried from Australia...
I'm currently sprawled on my bed pretending that our house is air conditioned and I'm not actually that sweaty. The windows are open, and the neighborhood kids are shrieking roughly half a block away. Does someone on this street have a pool? These are the shrieks I normally associate with ten or more adolescents fighting over noodles and scuba masks.
It's been a rough few weeks at work. I went through a two-and-a-half week drought in terms of applications, conversations, feelings of hope... everything, really. Then this past week I added two new students to my books. Unfortunately, the spike in activity didn't lead to the spike in mood that I expected. That part was actually more disappointing than the drought. I have just over two weeks left before our start, and (assuming my two students from this week start classes) I still need two more students to meet my quota. Quota. I hate how much this word has been slipping out of my mouth lately. I hate that it's crossed my mind even more frequently. Deadlines? Fine, bring them on. Evaluations? Okay, whatever. But quotas? I don't like the idea of turning my students into numbers on a spreadsheet. And I know that it's not as bad as that, but I still feel... not myself.
The true tragedy? When I was in my super emo funk and wanted nothing more than to crawl under my desk and eat Doritos all day, I decided that one thing in the world would probably cheer me up immensely. I decided to google image the last two pages of one of my childhood favorites, Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by Judith Viorst. For those of you who were born before the 80's and/or sadly deprived as children, the premise is that a little boy named Alexander is having one of those epic "the world is against me" kind of days that little kids seem especially good at having. Throughout the book he claims that he's just going to move to Australia. But the last two sentences of the book are, "My mom says some days are like that. Even in Australia." And, given my recent desire to abandon ship and run away on an amazing never-ending vacation, I find myself constantly thinking about Alexander and his oh-so-wise mother. However, try google imaging the book. Good luck finding those pages. I'm going to wind up improvising, but how fitting is it that the one thing in the world I wanted as a pick-me-up was impossible to find? Maybe if I tried from Australia...
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Transitions
Last night was a fabulous bit of nostalgia. As I made my way from Pittsburgh to Baltimore, I blew a tire. Cue montage of me sitting on the side of the road in the dark, riding in a tow truck with racist tow truck people, them sipping beer while changing my tire, and me crawling home going 55 mph with my flashers on. Through it all, I kept thinking of the last time I had a flat tire. I was roadrunning. Remember roadrunning? I know I do.
Now that I'm heading into my first real summer after college, I'm feeling a little... what's the word? Restless. Anxious. Wanderlusty. Sick of being in an office. Trapped. Tied down. Etc. I have never had a job before that had no foreseeable end. How do people do this? You're just supposed to stay at the same job for an extended amount of time? I'm just supposed to sit at a desk every day? And contribute meaningfully to the company? And not spend the next three months going to bars and whining that I'm bored?
Being a grown up sucks.
Ideal job right now? Independent college counselor. I would have an excuse to travel all over the place and look at schools and travel and be on college campuses and travel. But just in case, save the desk job for me. I'm sure I'll want it back in a few months.
Now that I'm heading into my first real summer after college, I'm feeling a little... what's the word? Restless. Anxious. Wanderlusty. Sick of being in an office. Trapped. Tied down. Etc. I have never had a job before that had no foreseeable end. How do people do this? You're just supposed to stay at the same job for an extended amount of time? I'm just supposed to sit at a desk every day? And contribute meaningfully to the company? And not spend the next three months going to bars and whining that I'm bored?
Being a grown up sucks.
Ideal job right now? Independent college counselor. I would have an excuse to travel all over the place and look at schools and travel and be on college campuses and travel. But just in case, save the desk job for me. I'm sure I'll want it back in a few months.
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