It’s been a while since I wrote. I missed it. My shrink says I need to find my happy place and cut things. Or maybe that was sharpen my saw….same difference.
Student teaching has kicked my butt. I love it, but some days I think I’d rather shovel cow poop than deal with all the ‘crap’ that comes with being an educator. It isn’t like you think. Not like the glorified teachers in the movies…okay, maybe it’s a bit like Robin Williams in Dead Poet’s Society now that I think of if. He was put in his place and told what to do. “Oh Captain, my captain…..” Epic scene….How is Robin Williams so cute when he is really just a furry little man? Anyway, I degress….
My shrink asked me what I do for fun. I may or may not have snorted. What do I do for ‘me.’ To relax, reboot, recharge, regenerate, reinvent…..regurgitate…. I knew what she meant, but I was embarassed to say I don’t really do anything. Does shopping count? Does peeing alone count? Does taking a ten minute nap after my head bands down on my desk from exhaustion count? What do I do….Does surfing Pinterest count? Nah, I think that is more of an addiction than anything else.
I started thinking. Cuz, that is what my shrink does to me. She makes me think. She also tells me I am too level headed and too much of a logical thinker to need to come see her, but she takes my money and listens to me anyway. It’s really a dream relationship. I go see her every other week or so. I verbally vomit all over her, tell her all the stuff I can’t tell anyone else, and then I leave. I don’t care what she thinks about me. I know nothing about her. She expects nothing from me, and I don’t have to buy her a birthday present. It’s perfect…and yet a bit shallow.
She told me again that I need to make friends. I have friends….kind of. I think the problem is, I don’t really have enough room in my tiny little brain to take in anyone else’s drama and stress and all that mushy stuff that comes with being a ‘good friend.’ My tiny brain is filled up with my own crap. Worry about my darling children (who are making me grey), worry about my schooling (which will kill me), worry about being an absolutely sucky teacher (which I was today), worry about my house being a breeding ground for rodents and vermin of all sizes shapes and nationalities (kids don’t see messes), and worry about not being able to commit to a couch for the front room (sign of commital issues?). Where would I house those worries for others?
In reality, I do worry about others. I worry about my friends at work that are dealing with financial trials, or sick Brawny men, or health issues, or frustrations with spouses. I worry about my ex and his fantastical ideas of reality, I worry about my bfw(best friend for a while) and whether he is eating, I worry about my parents and hope they know they are required to live forever. I worry about everyone. I guess the difference is, I chose what I worry about. I don’t want people telling me what to worry about. I can figure that out on my own.
Where is my happy place. Am I unhappy? I don’t think so. I think I’m happy enough. I am very blessed. I have had the freedom to create my current reality. As hard as it is at times, it was my choice to get here. If I had it to do over,…I’m not sure I would change anything. Well, except for those shoes I bought. Waste of money….
I guess I need to keep looking for that happy spot. I know I feel better when I write. Even though it is all disjointed mumblings of a logically thinking pchyonoid. (my own word) . It feels good to just vent. It is also nice to know that my professors don’t get to grade this or tell me it isn’t good enough or that I need citations. Kiss my furry little gripper sock! I’ll use run on sentences, fragments, and not capitalize or spell things right if I want. It’s my blog….cause I said so.
Photo credit: http://www.google.com/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&docid=qvmBPK9EKIGtAM&tbnid=W_nd62uuCt_mYM:&ved=0CAQQjB0&url=http%3A%2F%2Fexurbanpedestrian.wordpress.com%2F2010%2F03%2F24%2Fon-top-of-spaghetti%2F&ei=I1ZCUumHOunGiwKXh4CABw&bvm=bv.53077864,d.cGE&psig=AFQjCNFGXCllDlyE8zUJO9ipuZP4YptXWw&ust=1380165434839725 EXTRA CREDIT: can you tell me why I used this picture??