Interview Tomorrow

So tomorrow afternoon I have my interview that will complete my major application. (Yes, technically I am a Senior applying for my major. "Isn't that a little late?" Yes, trust me, I know, I feel bad enough about it...you don't need to point it out to me, enough people have already- particularly the older customers at work.) Anyway, the point is for some reason I am incredibly nervous about this. This is completely unlike me! I've always loved every kind of interview imaginable. It's never been something that bothers me, but I have a pit in my stomach over this one. Tomorrow I will be sitting down with someone who has a very intimidating last name and I have no clue what to expect. I guess I'll just keep my fingers crossed and hope everything goes well.

Where's the REAL tragedy nowadays???

So as everyone knows, mainly because I've complained about it intensely lately, I have been doing a ton of reading lately. I'm taking a British Lit class this semester and right now we're in the Romantic period and we've been reading a TON of poetry. (Poetry is good because it's code word for shorter than the novels in my other classes). It's actually a really great class. I love the professor and she makes class discussion really interesting. Anyway, so we've been reading everything from Blake, to Coleridge to Keats to Charlotte Smith and let me tell you something, these people had a reason to wallow in misery and write sonnets, and odes, and make up intense theories about how to bring about the apocalypse. Before every section in the anthology we get to read the poet's biography and it seems like everyone is just miserable: opium addictions, dying in their twenties, husbands who beat them and go to debtor's prison... DANG! So it got me thinking, can you only be a really good writer if you've had this incredibly horrible life? Today in class we were comparing Keats and John Clare and a kid said he just couldn't get into Clare because, "His life just wasn't hard enough for me" we all laughed because it's kind of true...there just isn't as much depth to his stuff, until he went insane and started writing in the asylum...then it gets a little better. I don't know...this blog really has no point. I just feel so sad for all these miserable poets. And does any kind of modern misery actually qualify to be on the same level as these folk's? I know we have hard things to deal with too, but nothing seems to live up to rat infested debtor's prison...I don't know- just a question to send out into the void.

Cold Medicine- A Girl's Best Friend

So on Friday my throat started to feel a little bit sore. By the time I woke up on Saturday I couldn't swallow without pain, I ached all over, and spent the entire day miserable and crabby. On Sunday I was feeling much better by mid-afternoon. My throat didn't hurt at all anymore! I still had a slight cough, but other than that I figured all the sleep I'd had must have put me on the path to recovery...OH NO people, I spoke WAY too soon. Yesterday I started feeling congested, and by last night I was SERIOUSLY congested. I went to bed early because I didn't feel well, but I don't think I slept more than 15 minutes straight. I had to keep waking up coughing or to blow my nose so I could breathe. It is absolutely disgusting to me. You'd think my little nose would run out of stuff to blow, but it just doesn't...gross. Not only that but my head hurt so bad that every little noise was making it worse. When the people who live above us started moving around upstairs it literally hurt my head every time they took a step. I thought I was going to die. I know I am overly dramatic and that I have a low pain tolerance, but seriously people this time I don't think I am exaggerating at all- I am sick!

Anyway, this morning when I told Chad I hadn't been able to sleep all night he suggested I take some nyquill and miss classes so I can get some actual rest. I disputed this idea for awhile, but gave in because one of my classes was shortened today, and the other one the professor won't even be there. I have to write a paper tonight, and there's no way I can get that done without a little sleep. (I love that missing classes makes me feel so guilty I even have to justify it on this blog).

I decided to take his advice. I don't know if Nyquill affects everyone the same way, or if it just does a number on me because I've never consumed alcohol...but it makes me insanely loopy. It definitely did it's job though! I slept from 8:30 to about 1:00 this afternoon and feel soooooooooo much better! The cold's just as horrid as ever, but at least I feel rested. Nyquill wins the best invention ever award in my book today!!! Thank you! I can't wait to try out your sister Day-Quill Chad is going to buying for me. What a happy remedy to such a horrible problem. The End.

Memoirs of a Vending Machine

Today I reached work absolutely famished. We desperately need to go grocery shopping because right now we have no "packable" food in our apartment. Since I'm on campus/at work from morning until 5 if I don't bring any food I am kind of stuck. I've gone a few times without lunch, but discovered that equals the curse of the migraine headache so I've sworn off doing that now. Anyhow, today I got to work and knew I would have to buy a snack to hold me over until dinner time. I hate buying things in vending machines because it's such a complete rip off but I didn't see a way around it this time. I had 88 cents on my signature card so I decided to use it in the vending machine in the press building where I work.

Keep in mind by this time I am very hungry. Everything in the vending machine is making my mouth water with the anticipation of food. After selecting the perfect variety of Doritos (Cooler Ranch) I swiped my card, typed in the number and letter and watched as the coil holding the bag started to slowly unwind. The bag was approaching the edge, I could hardly wait for it to fall to the bottom so I could collect my lunch...but did it fall...NO! I was completely outraged! 60 cents down the drain! 40 more cents would have made that a dollar! That would have paid for a movie at the dollar theatre, or 2 movies if we went on 50 cent Tuesday!!! It could have paid for printing off a paper on campus! I could have bought...I don't know.... SOMETHING with a wasted 60 cents. Anyway, as if being upset over the lost money wasn't enough I didn't have enough money left on my signature card to buy anything else. I was the vending machine victim- completely taken advantage of.

Anyway, when I returned to the office and expressed my dismay to my co-workers, Karen bought me a strawberry lemonade so life was ok again. I started thinking- even though the vending machine keeping my chips was probably the worst thing that could have happened to me in that moment, it probably made someone else's day when they put in 60 cents and got 2 bags for the price of one. It actually makes me feel like a mini hero that I could help someone feel delighted as the result of my misfortune. Let's face it, we've all gotten two things out of a vending machine at some point in our lives. I know I have, and I've never really stopped to think someone else had to feel angry and frustrated in order to make that possible... Wow, a vending machine is a powerful little device. It can ruin your day or make your day, all over a measly bag of chips- isn't life funny?

The Never Ending Reading List and The Remarkable Husband

It has been awhile since I posted a blog. I can enlighten you on why that is by simply telling you every spare moment of my life lately has been spent reading. Apparently I love to read. I also apparently love to write. These are things I told myself when I decided to become an English major. Over the last couple of weeks, however, I have been starting to wonder if I deceived myself into believing these are things I can even tolerate. Actually, that's not true- I still love to read and write, I just don't like to be told what I have to read and write, and how much I have to read and write every single day. Even now I am procrastinating reading Richard II while I write this blog.

Chad has been the best husband ever lately. Not to suggest he hasn't been the best husband ever since the moment we were married, because he definitely has been, but since school started I have been even more in awe of how wonderful he is to me. I hope this doesn't embarrass him if he reads this or someone else reads this and tells him about it, but he is wonderful!

One night I was incredibly stressed and had hundreds of pages of George Eliot to read (I like the lady, but sometimes her stuff just DRAGS). Anyway, as I was reading I was suddenly struck with a horrific thought: I had no clean underwear for the next day... We had put off doing laundry because life has been so busy lately. Anyway, I let out a groan and informed Chadwick of this dilemma. If we were in reverse roles at this moment I don't think I would have been as sweet as he was. It was LATE by this point, and he still went and did ALL of our laundry by himself so I could get everything done AND have clean underwear. This may not seem like a big deal to you, but when you live in an apartment with no washer and dryer like we do this is a REALLY big deal. Doing laundry takes hours when you can't do it in your own apartment (I hate it, it is pretty much the worst thing ever). So that act of kindness pretty much saved me...

THEN a few days later we had no food in the house, it was way past dinner time, I was reading (shocking I know) for a bizillion classes, and Chad offered to make dinner. Again, if we were to trade shoes at that moment I would probably cook, but I would fix something quick because it was late and I was tired. What did Chad fix? Mac and cheese? nope. Ramen? nope, not that either. TRY homemade red sauce with chicken over penne pasta...he didn't even use Ragu- I find this to be the sweetest thing in the world, and completely astonishing.

How did I ever trick this man into marrying me? I have not a clue, but I know I am incredibly lucky. I love him so much, and I love knowing that he loves me too. When we are both finally home at the end of the day, he makes up for all the stress that came before that. Despite George Eliot, Shakespeare, Hemingway, O'Connor, and every English poet imaginable life is good. And that's all I have to say...

New Sister-hood

I grew up with two brothers, making me the only girl. This definitely had its perks: I knew as much about Ninja Turtles, Power Rangers, etc. as any of the boys on the playground, I pretty much had sole control of a bathroom counter for "getting ready" time, and I had my own wardrobe- no fighting over shared clothes (which I hear causes frequent disputes among sisters). Anyway, the point is I did enjoyed growing up with brothers. Bryan and Jared are wonderful and I love them very much. (Sometimes they would do things that forced me to physically hurt them. Despite the fact that they often deserved this treatment, I am very sorry if I caused any permanent damage- and I loved them all along I promise). Even though I was always happy being a sibling to two boys, deep down I always wanted a sister. This was not really much of a secret, in fact I vocalized this desire often. I repeatedly asked for one, and I am pretty sure I prayed for Jared to be a girl when my mom was pregnant.

This yearning for a sister never really went away. In high school and college I have found friends who come pretty darn close to filling this void. They are wonderful, compassionate, loving women who are like family to me...but most of them have "real" sisters of their own. So as much as we joked about being "sisters from another mister" we were always just joking.

When I married Chad one of the most wonderful things in the world came with the deal: HE HAS A SISTER! And here is the clincher: She doesn't HAVE a sister! SOOOOOOOO we both get a sister at last, and it is for real, because we are RELATED! I was completely elated with this notion when Chad and I became engaged, I even joked with Chad that the only reason I was marrying him was for Meredith, but last night it seriously hit me how wonderful it is. I was sitting in our apartment all alone because Chad was working until late, and there was a knock at the door. I figured it would be one of our random neighbors asking to borrow a screwdriver or phonebook again, but it was Meredith! It made my night to have her stop by. Chad had taken her and Adam's engagement pictures during the day so she stopped by to show them to me. We had such a great time together talking and laughing. When she left it hit me that we are really sisters now and how special that is. I really love Meredith like a sister! Anyway, I just thought I would share with everyone how fabulous I think this whole thing is! I have a sister- the end.

The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Work Day

Warning: This is a vent...this will not be a very positive blog, if you don't want to feel negative, you probably shouldn't read this. (I apologize profusely for this)

Today I thought I was going to lose it at work. Lately I haven't been liking my job very much...this is really quite sad because I work with wonderful people and it's not a horrible job, I can't seem to quite pin point what exactly is wrong with my place of employment. All I know is once I get to work I am almost instantly in a bad mood. I feel horrible because I don't like to feel annoyed and unhappy for 4 hours of my day. I know this is a problem with my attitude and I need to fix it, but I just thought I'd vent for a little bit if you don't mind.

Today I was all alone at the front counter. That's not a huge deal, except today was exceptionally busy. My day consisted of lifting heavy boxes onto scales, answering a phone that persisted in ringing every 5 SECONDS (literally people, I kid you not), helping a woman process over 20 boxes that she decided to bring in at the busiest time of day (so while I helped her tons of other people waited impatiently behind the counter), and in between all of this I kept taking deep breaths and telling myself not to cry. (The crying part is probably a result of a certain time of the month rapidly approaching for me.) The thing is though, before all of this my day had been going pretty well...yes I did wake up a bit late (which means I spent the day in pig-tails) but other than that I'd had 3 great English classes, Chad sent me some adorable text messages that made me feel loved and happy, and I even found out the bookstore had some used copies of the British Lit Anthology I had to buy so I saved 15 dollars! So the question is, how could all of these delightful moments from my day be completely destroyed in 4 hours? *sigh...I do not know. I feel completely helpless in this situation, I can't quit my job unless I find another job that is just as convenient, and I don't even know if I want to quit my job necessarily- I just want to be less sick of it! Anyway, that's all for tonight, just a major complaint- sorry everyone.