Ugh. I am in a shit mood right now. The end of the year always hits me like an emotional tonne of bricks. I always feel like I’ve let all of my students down. They are always more than happy to blame me for their marks, lack of attendance, personal problems, etc. I have felt like shit since the moment that one of my students, in trying to guess my ethnicity, said, “she’s not Swedish. Swedish girls are sexy.”

The problem with that statement is that any way you slice it, including a retraction, it’s either creepy or insulting.

In an effort to boost my mood, I’m trying to make a list of Good Things That Happened Today. If that doesn’t work, I’ll expand my time limits.

1. only one teaching day left, and if it doesn’t rain, I’ll be spending it outside next to a gladiator ring, wearing my World’s Worst Teacher shirt.
2. I bought Mill Street Tankhouse Ale on the way home, smoothing my evening with a single craft-brewed beer.
3. tonight is the lowest stress meal ever: breakfast for dinner night. Yay!
4. after supper, I’m going out to buy 2 ½ yards of fabric and an inflatable pool. Don’t you want to be invited to my parties now?
5. usually Blake does the occasional overnight at Camp Grampa (as much his idea as mine), but as of today Blake is staying with me for the next uninterrupted week. Uninterrupted! Week!
6. this weekend’s going to be awesome.
7. next weekend may involve Drunken Knitting, retro goth dancing and a going-away party for two of the city’s “most beloved chefs.” I only met one last Saturday and I already love her.
8. last night I danced for 2 hours and became the Belly Dance Secretary. Her shimmies are entered into the minutes!
9. my credit card bill for this month was $700 less than it was last month. (There are a couple charges going through soon, including the dinner where I met the chef of #7. Yummmy.)
10. I am two arms into a Cthrocheted Cthulu. Eee!
11. hugs and kisses are mere hours away, waiting in my friends and in the future for our next meeting.

Is good.

Labels: blake, friends, happiness

"I'm singing my heart out, but you were so out of range…" – sloan

Last night the Boy decided to share a bed with me again. I feel like it's been forever – and for all the nights when he stole covers, or flailed about, or snored without remorse, I've been getting lonelier and lonelier. I can't and won't let myself become complacent, but: every tiny bit of relief is that much more exaggerated by the pain that preceded it. I had real difficulty getting out of bed this morning, but that may also be because I'm getting sick.

Tomorrow I'm staying home, the better to mark and rest and dream.

Labels: happiness, health, the boy

Things are much better, and they have been for the last three days. After I wrote Thursday's entry, the Boy & I had another cycle of intense argument, which culminated in the Boy deciding to try and trust me a little bit. The last few days have been good, because we've both been trying to get along. Now that I don't feel a big suffocating weight sitting on my shoulders, I'm even being affectionate. Or, rather: I'm letting myself be affectionate and he is letting himself be the object of that affection. That's good.

Talked to Dirk on Thursday night (the wax moustachers conversation), and he was the first person in all of this to tell me flat out that there was no way that the Boy didn't or couldn't love me so suddenly. That helped, as did Mason's continual efforts to take care of me at work (where it is paramount that I hit the ground running in every class. No time for aching sorrow.) We also got to knit together twice this week, which was more cause for celebration. I may even be done something soon.

The Gorgeous Ladies of Knitting convened around me yesterday (or maybe it was just September Drunken Knitting), offering support of all kinds. Jendricks, as always, had the most memorable advice: "if it doesn’t work, kick him to the curb, 'cause you're perfect." Which is warming and strengthening to hear, even if I don't intend to do it. Another excellent social event, made better by the love and advice of my knitsibs. Blessed doesn't begin to cover it.

Labels: friends, happiness, knit, the boy