All of you have had to deal with pain, so you know that there is no magic bullet. The journey goes like this:
- ARGH!! HURTSHURTSHURTS! All the time.
- Hurts most of the time, with occasional moments of, "Ah! What a relief! Those last five minutes were actually not too bad!"
- Good much of the time, with occasional excruciating stabs.
- Whew! Check out my scar!
So, today's hike was particularly long and rough. I'm a little out of shape.
Things that didn't help (I love a list!):
- Morning routines. Mornings suck, I'm finding;
- Running. I had a good long workout today: both weights and running. People say exercise helps; but I think a lot when I run. Maybe I need to fill my iPod with some of Sara's obnoxious, "tween" bubble gum stuff that takes over your brain and stays all day. "BABY YOU'RE A FIIIIIIIREWOOOOORK!!"
- Driving. Driving is evil. Too much think-time;
- Going to the grocery store;
- Texting. I know, that's almost as weird as the grocery store. I texted, but my thumbs just were NOT into it;
- Reading to Sara about Buddhism.
- My meeting with Jeff G. at the Utah State Office of Education. He and I are creating an adult educator development and training plan for the state. First, I am happy that the state has accepted my idea: if we want good trainings for teachers, we should send out a call for a trainer on a particular topic (teaching pronunciation, for example). Let potential teacher-trainers send in a resume, cover letter and a two-page outline of how they would cover that material in...let's say... a six-hour workshop. Whoever sends in the most kick-ass proposal wins the contract and actually gets paid a decent amount of money for their time in planning and implementing it. Let's say $500-$700. I'm sick of the way teachers are just expected to volunteer for everything, no matter how intensive the job is. You end up with a frazzled, resentful trainer and often a cobbled-together half-ass training. This'll work! So, Jeff and I were planning how to get it started. This was both gratifying and distracting. Plus, Jeff G. has giant cut-out of Tonto and the Lone Ranger in his office. And he seems to sincerely like, admire and enjoy working with me. This gave me about 90 minutes of help with my load. Thanks, Jeff.
- The office. Numbing my brain with roll charts and childcare lists. Puzzling out the difference between the new students Thu Thuy Pham, Thuy Thanh Thi Pham and Thuy Pham. (No more Phams, you guys! Please, don't call in anyone named Pham. And no more Thuys, either.) Putting on my She Who Must Be Obeyed persona and letting the business office know that we really need a surge protector that does NOT squeal continuously. Mel's sarcasm. Ray's good-natured kvetching (no one can make "God dammit, Kate!" sound quite so...uplifting...). Thanks, office! And Ray, I'll get you a new hard-drive as soon as I have some money. It's at the top of my list. Hang in there, Buddy!
- Stories. I took the kids over to the Cultural Celebration Center to meet my friends Moira and Corinne and listen to storyteller Bill Harley. I love listening to good stories, and this guy is Grammy-winning fabulous. Not babyish at all, to Nate's relief. He laughed his ass off. There is still a little kid in me somewhere who can push away sadness with loud singing and doing all the hand motions. Dweebie, I know. Thanks, inner dweeb!
- Reading aloud. Sara's choice of book made me sad. But, by golly, I am really good at reading aloud. It's meditative. I have to focus enough to push my emotions out of my mind. I can be alone with just the fluid line of the language; the beauty of its intonation. Language: my breastplate. My high tower. Thanks, language!
Maybe Day 4 will be easier.