When Is Spring Break?
Jan. 26th, 2016 10:43 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
liminal_space[Diving In]
I'm home with the child today; she's out of school for most of the week due to a throat infection and bronchitis. Not medicating every little thing has helped in this case -- yesterday, she went to the doctor and got two prescriptions; because her little body is so unused to drugs, these were effective almost immediately. Nice.
So, today she's going to lounge and rest and other such stuff. I will lounge and rest and other such stuff with her, along with cleaning a bit. We're in a state of chaos around here and it's beginning to affect my emotional wellbeing. Faced with the choice between improving emotional wellbeing and doing nothing, I'm choosing to make things better for myself. Amazing how that works.
The house nonsense is still in full swing, but I am confident that there's a reason for delay. I tend to be impulsive and all the drama associated with buying a house is forcing me to slow down and THINK about things. That's never a bad thing, and no matter how much I say "OMG THERE WILL NEVER BE A GOOD HOUSE TO BUY AGAIN", I know that not to be true. The truth is, we have a hot mess of requirements and wants...and want to pay minimal for all of them. :) Welcome to the mindset of every buyer, right? =P
I'm actually really thankful that the foreclosure we saw/wanted didn't happen. After stepping away from it for a few weeks, I see that while the house itself was almost perfect, the imperfections were big. Also, the land wasn't just quite right. Finding the right house on the right land is going to take some time. Some long time. --sad--
There's also the fact that it's SMART to get rid of the cabin after we buy. This is causing me no small measure of cranky, since I absolutely love it up here and hate the idea of not having the up here as a Christmas/Summer vacation spot. Maybe we'll get one more year up here -- I hope so. I would also like to have this as a writer's retreat for myself for when I, you know, actually start writing again.
Life is just getting in the way. (excuses, excuses, excuses)
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I have a GATE conference in Palm Springs in about a month that I'm looking forward to. Next year I should have two GATE classes, two core classes, and one elective. I'll be back to three preps. :( I'm going to ask if I can opt out of the elective for a few years, but that will mean I need to talk to one of the other 7th grade ELA people about doing one. We'll see, we'll see.
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I didn't write about the passing of Bowie, because in my life, Bowie comes with baggage. I can't write about him without writing about the years of my life where his music was inexorably linked to pain and beauty, love and explosive emotion. Even now, hearing his music transports me to right then, right there and I can visualize, with crystalline clarity, pale blue walls and rumpled sheets and windows spray painted black; I can feel the swell of fear and desire that came when I welcomed my own personal monster into my heart.
That shit is intense: no grown-ass responsible woman should have to feel that sort of emotion. It's one of the perks of getting older.
----------
I'm home with the child today; she's out of school for most of the week due to a throat infection and bronchitis. Not medicating every little thing has helped in this case -- yesterday, she went to the doctor and got two prescriptions; because her little body is so unused to drugs, these were effective almost immediately. Nice.
So, today she's going to lounge and rest and other such stuff. I will lounge and rest and other such stuff with her, along with cleaning a bit. We're in a state of chaos around here and it's beginning to affect my emotional wellbeing. Faced with the choice between improving emotional wellbeing and doing nothing, I'm choosing to make things better for myself. Amazing how that works.
The house nonsense is still in full swing, but I am confident that there's a reason for delay. I tend to be impulsive and all the drama associated with buying a house is forcing me to slow down and THINK about things. That's never a bad thing, and no matter how much I say "OMG THERE WILL NEVER BE A GOOD HOUSE TO BUY AGAIN", I know that not to be true. The truth is, we have a hot mess of requirements and wants...and want to pay minimal for all of them. :) Welcome to the mindset of every buyer, right? =P
I'm actually really thankful that the foreclosure we saw/wanted didn't happen. After stepping away from it for a few weeks, I see that while the house itself was almost perfect, the imperfections were big. Also, the land wasn't just quite right. Finding the right house on the right land is going to take some time. Some long time. --sad--
There's also the fact that it's SMART to get rid of the cabin after we buy. This is causing me no small measure of cranky, since I absolutely love it up here and hate the idea of not having the up here as a Christmas/Summer vacation spot. Maybe we'll get one more year up here -- I hope so. I would also like to have this as a writer's retreat for myself for when I, you know, actually start writing again.
Life is just getting in the way. (excuses, excuses, excuses)
----------
I have a GATE conference in Palm Springs in about a month that I'm looking forward to. Next year I should have two GATE classes, two core classes, and one elective. I'll be back to three preps. :( I'm going to ask if I can opt out of the elective for a few years, but that will mean I need to talk to one of the other 7th grade ELA people about doing one. We'll see, we'll see.
----------
I didn't write about the passing of Bowie, because in my life, Bowie comes with baggage. I can't write about him without writing about the years of my life where his music was inexorably linked to pain and beauty, love and explosive emotion. Even now, hearing his music transports me to right then, right there and I can visualize, with crystalline clarity, pale blue walls and rumpled sheets and windows spray painted black; I can feel the swell of fear and desire that came when I welcomed my own personal monster into my heart.
That shit is intense: no grown-ass responsible woman should have to feel that sort of emotion. It's one of the perks of getting older.
----------
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Date: 2016-01-28 04:19 pm (UTC)That's not a heated pad, haha! I see how it looks like that, though. :) It's a plastic bag that the cotton candy kitten goes in -- like the ones that regular cotton candy come in. As far as meaning? Who knows? The translation is probably "KITTIES ARE CUTE AND SWEET" or some other such something.