I know, months and months and months. Which I state to no one except myself, but I state it anyway.
The problem with blogging is, well, the things one wants to get off of one's G cups are things you don't want the people who have dumped on you to know have bothered you. If you write them down, YOU feel better but the people who have contributed to the burden will either feel bad and stop, or get mad and, well, yeah, that never ends well.
Anyway, there have been changes upon changes, Christmas came and went, in spite of my great dreams and intentions it happened as it always happens. I had plans this year, I was going to hot glue silver and white ornaments to garland and drench the place in Christmas loveliness. On the 18th I dragged the six year old fake tree out of the dusty storage bin above the car port and let my sons and a girlfriend have their way with it. I put out a ceramic tree and that was pretty much it. The place looked like a cluttered mess, which depresses me to no end anymore, I find a crave order and space.
I wanted to take the stuff down on the 25th, we weren't doing anything but, as usual, it stayed up until the 6th and then it came down, not so much because anyone gave a damn but it shut me up.
And another year begins. This one began with a missing check, the check that would have paid the rent. Yep, we live on those checks. The people who issued the check said they would re-issue it and we haven't heard from them since. My instinct says that it will show up. Unfortunately, the management company of the building we live in couldn't care less about my instincts and sent some guy who called himself "head of security" to collect. My subsequent mini break down has me physically and mentally exhausted. I was able to beg, borrow and steal. If the freaking check ever freaking shows up, and I think it will, I intend to get a manicure and a haircut and drive up the coast and eat fish and chips and drink Anchor Steam on tap. Until then, I sit. And worry.
I also am in a quandary. I decided to enroll in an on line college and get a degree in Media Studies. Seems like a good idea, considering what and where we're going as a society. Anyway, some of the stuff I took the first time doesn't transfer and now I need more "stuff" than I did then so, well, it's not just 18 units of a new major. This has been a really big undertaking because I found a REAL college and they actually expect me to turn in REAL work. I've plowed through the Constitution (that teacher is an idiot, btw) and culture and current media and now I'm in Analytical Literature.
This one is a bone cruncher. And now I have a problem, but it's a good one. I turned in a first paper and I hoped it was what it was supposed to be, the syllabus is confusing as hell as to themes and dates due. I got my grade back. The teacher called it "superb," said I had a writer's voice and a whole lot of other stuff along those lines. We have to submit papers to the class for their input as well and I keep getting comments like "you are an amazing writer." Of course, these are people who don't know what an adjective is and before you complain I don't mean that like it may sound. This class is full of people who are not majoring in English or looking for a degree with the word "arts" in it at all. It's not their bailiwick - this is my point. So I'm thinking, wow, that's so nice to say but I'm not as good as all that.
But the teacher seems to think I'm as good as all that and, between wondering what HER credentials are I'm starting to doubt my choice. If I AM adequate, why am I studying communications? Should I run with this? And, at my age, what's the point? It's not like I'm going to embark on a new career, I should be retiring - like THAT'S gonna happen, we're all gonna die at our desks, me first.
If I had my way, I would just go to school, I like going to school. I like knowing who Cold Play is and I like watching Dr. Who and that's what you get when you're around a school...the kids think the old geezers are cool and they treat you well. Not to mention that if I cold GO to school, instead of the on line thing, I could get cheaper tuition. On line, if it's a good, respectable school (mine is) it's private. My loans and grants cover tuition, this semester there wasn't enough left over for books, the biggest racket on earth but they've got us by the shorts on those, I know. If I go to a regular university my money will go farther. And it's always easier to figure out the syllabus when you're sitting there looking at the person who wrote it.
So anyway, that and a lot of other things is where my head has been. I don't fool myself into thinking anyone is here anymore, there weren't that many here to begin with. I've spent a lot of time dealing with my kids and not going very far outside that. I was thinking last night, I know it was worth it. I've got good kids. Aside from the usual worries, they turned out fine. You know, "are they home safe?" that kind of things. They're old enough to drink and there's something comforting about sharing a beer with your son. They're not using or dealing and they're busy and fairly happy and I'm grateful. I know mothers who have problems with their kids. They are all mothers who have a very active social life, go places, do things, hang out with friends. I like to think that one can have both friends and good kids but I wonder. I think that's the "having it all" syndrome. Except it doesn't work.
Aw hell, I wonder about everything anymore. Maybe that's what middle age is.