![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Mar. 16th, 2009 12:34 pmToday is one of those days. I feel dumb as a post today. Not particularly sure why. It might be because I have to meet my prof later today and I'm nervous about it. Or it might be because I slept in this morning and had to rush and as a result was unable to pack a lunch. Or maybe I really am dumb as a post.
The weather is getting good, but I won't be able to enjoy it until mid-April or so. Sigh. But at least, at that point, I'll have some time to myself. A little time to myself. A very small amount of time to myself. But, it will be there.
I want a job. A different job. I'm sick of academia. I want to work at Superstore again. Oh, how I miss doing manual labour. Receiving shipments. Hauling boxes. Taking all the heavy loads that nobody else could pull 'cause my department was full of pansies. Stacking huge bags of soil as if it was nothing. Piling huge wooden pallets on top of one another, lifting them myself when it'd normally take two other people, feeling ten feet tall. Oh gods, how I miss that.
Hmm, mm. Maybe I'll be able to get a job like that this summer. Maybe. I know the economy is shit, but we'll see. I guess if I can't get a job hauling dirt, I can spend some time digging in the dirt in the community garden across from my apartment. Planting. Watering. Weeding. Yeah.
... I still want to try to grow some poppies. Gods, I miss poppies. Sure, they make a mess when they drop their petals, but they're so beautiful.
Mm. Need to do some more work. And slog through more Journal of the Plague Year. And then... nn. Tristram Shandy. *chokes*
[edit 2:30 PM]
I met with professor Stephanson. We discussed my performance in class... or rather, the lack therof. And my spotty attendance. We came to the conclusion that I should drop his class.
Unfortunately, the due-date for drops has passed. I wasn't aware of this until today. But he says that he spoke with the grad chair (professor Cooley), and that it seems likely that if I get a note from my doctor (as I had explained to him that my absences were related to a medical issue) it is likely that Cooley would be able to argue that I should be allowed to drop the class, even though the date has passed.
Fucking social anxiety. Ugh! It fucks up everything!
Well, I made an appointment to meet with my psychiatrist in an hour or so. This may be jumping the gun a little, because we have not confirmed that I will be able to drop it, but whichever. If it turns out that I cannot actually drop it, and instead will have to do an extended version of the class (to make up for having missed so many classes), then that's fine. Because at least I'll have the note as proof to professor Stephanson that no, I'm not just a slacker, I really do have a problem. It might not be a physical problem, but it is still very much a problem.
Indeed - how could it be anything but a problem, when the thought of going to class makes you want to cry? Ahh, it isn't quite so bad now, with the medication, but I still get very anxious and upset and tend to skip these classes rather than going to them. *sigh*
Well, I do hope this all works out.
The weather is getting good, but I won't be able to enjoy it until mid-April or so. Sigh. But at least, at that point, I'll have some time to myself. A little time to myself. A very small amount of time to myself. But, it will be there.
I want a job. A different job. I'm sick of academia. I want to work at Superstore again. Oh, how I miss doing manual labour. Receiving shipments. Hauling boxes. Taking all the heavy loads that nobody else could pull 'cause my department was full of pansies. Stacking huge bags of soil as if it was nothing. Piling huge wooden pallets on top of one another, lifting them myself when it'd normally take two other people, feeling ten feet tall. Oh gods, how I miss that.
Hmm, mm. Maybe I'll be able to get a job like that this summer. Maybe. I know the economy is shit, but we'll see. I guess if I can't get a job hauling dirt, I can spend some time digging in the dirt in the community garden across from my apartment. Planting. Watering. Weeding. Yeah.
... I still want to try to grow some poppies. Gods, I miss poppies. Sure, they make a mess when they drop their petals, but they're so beautiful.
Mm. Need to do some more work. And slog through more Journal of the Plague Year. And then... nn. Tristram Shandy. *chokes*
[edit 2:30 PM]
I met with professor Stephanson. We discussed my performance in class... or rather, the lack therof. And my spotty attendance. We came to the conclusion that I should drop his class.
Unfortunately, the due-date for drops has passed. I wasn't aware of this until today. But he says that he spoke with the grad chair (professor Cooley), and that it seems likely that if I get a note from my doctor (as I had explained to him that my absences were related to a medical issue) it is likely that Cooley would be able to argue that I should be allowed to drop the class, even though the date has passed.
Fucking social anxiety. Ugh! It fucks up everything!
Well, I made an appointment to meet with my psychiatrist in an hour or so. This may be jumping the gun a little, because we have not confirmed that I will be able to drop it, but whichever. If it turns out that I cannot actually drop it, and instead will have to do an extended version of the class (to make up for having missed so many classes), then that's fine. Because at least I'll have the note as proof to professor Stephanson that no, I'm not just a slacker, I really do have a problem. It might not be a physical problem, but it is still very much a problem.
Indeed - how could it be anything but a problem, when the thought of going to class makes you want to cry? Ahh, it isn't quite so bad now, with the medication, but I still get very anxious and upset and tend to skip these classes rather than going to them. *sigh*
Well, I do hope this all works out.
Yuu. Fic writer & book lover. M/Canada.