In 2014:
I started: Teaching (adjunct) General Sociology at a community college. I was excited (and nervous) and so not ready given my mother had passed away just two days before the first day of class. I enjoyed returning to being "smart" and my interest in the field. It woke up a part of my brain that has been on snooze for way too long.
I stopped: Teaching General Sociology at a community college. I think it was at the four week mark when I realized exactly why adjuncts complain so much. The pay was abysmal for the hours you put in. It cut way in to my consulting time, which is actually where I make money to help pay the bills. I loved some of the students; others scared me. I felt disconnected from the department - as if I could be making balloon animals in front of the class and that would be fine - but they made me feel as if I had to continually prove my worth even though they never visited my class or reviewed my syllabus, which is what really counts. I would do it again - but at a different college. Sadly, it is THAT kind of college that sorely needs new ideas and good teachers.
I was satisfied: that I gave my students everything I had, particularly around issues of race in the United States. I challenged the status quo of avoiding race in the classroom, particularly the ugly history that led us to the sad state of affairs where we find ourselves today.
I was frustrated: with my health. Frustrated to find myself scheduling another surgery - my fourth in ten years - with the full knowledge that it might not "work." And yet, I'm having trouble walking because of all the scar tissue in my pelvis, and so I have almost no choice but to try. It's a relatively straightforward procedure, but it backs up on all the years of pain, recovery, time spent waiting for doctors, and financial stress and becomes just a great big load I'd like to dump on someone else. If I had invested everything I've spent on my health over the past decade in a fund that paid an average market return? Well...let's not even do the math on that one. And it's frustrating because I feel like there's just no one left to talk to about it. People have heard it all before and there's nothing left to say, and yet I have this giant, yawning need for sympathy at the moment. Thanks for listening.
I am so embarrassed that I: John's view is that it's minor, but I'm embarrassed that I congratulated a woman holding a baby at a family Thanksgiving dinner - thinking she was the Mom (I'd met once before) when in fact it was just a random baby holder. The actual Mom was sitting on a couch across the room. They were kinda rude to me for the rest of the afternoon and I have to say I felt like I deserved it. [forehead slap]
Once again, I failed to: write my book. Finish any of the paintings I started almost five years ago. I feel dead, creatively speaking, but I also know that this will eventually pass.
The biggest physical difference between me last December and this December: I lost another ten pounds, though I'm not sure why since I didn't really "try." But who cares, right? I'm within 5 pounds of my Miami weight (Miami the FIRST time) and this is another reason I dread having surgery. I like being thinner and recovery time is never good for weight. Downside, the significant weight loss over the past few years has given me turkey neck.
I loved: receiving a chatty letter from granddaughter Lucy, out of the blue. Grandkids are such a gift, you have no idea.
Why did: my mother spend $100 a month from her paycheck to purchase EE Savings Bonds for me? I mean, I appreciate the gift, but I wish she would have spent that money on making herself happy. I know that this was her choice, and that it made her happy to do so, but I would have been happier still to see her enjoy herself once in awhile while she could still do it.
I should have: taken off to New York by myself for a fall weekend. Expenses be damned, even though I'd already just been.
I feel so vulnerable: I'm happy to say that I don't feel all that vulnerable at the moment. Things aren't perfect, of course, but I feel pretty solid at my core. I'm unhappy about the surgery, but in a good spot, big picture. That's worth millions.
I regret: not brow beating John into building the tub deck BEFORE he put the tub in. It looks ok, but would be much neater if it had been done first. I sometimes regret not telling people what I really think because it would cause conflict; other times I think it's for the best that I just keep it all to myself. Process shot above. I found the antique flame mahogany empire mirror at a local antique store for $60.
I will never regret: fixing up the back yard. It is inspiration for the rest of the house and such a serene spot to sit in good weather. We loved tending our little vegetable garden and I have no regrets choosing edibles over flowers. Also, I have been cavity free for almost a decade. I will never regret switching to Sonicare toothbrushes.
I love: the new bathroom. It took forever, but we're really happy with it and I love the Georgetown "Hoyas Blue" that I painted the walls. I had Lowe's custom blend the paint using my graduation handbook.
The dust in the house from remodeling...drove me crazy. And it continues. The never finished status of the house drives me crazy. Everywhere I look there's a huge project to tackle, so mostly I just sit and read with the pets because I'm so overwhelmed. This helps the crazy not at all.
The most relaxing place I went: Omaha was oddly relaxing, once we were through with my Mom's service. Just hanging out at the hotel; going to Modern Love restaurant. As is the hotel I'm staying in right now. I crashed John's business trip, brought Sissy, my laptop, my own coffee, and three library books. It's AWESOME.
The best thing I did for someone else: Probably being with my Mom the last week of her life. She was pleased to see me when I arrived and oddly lucid for the first day. I hope I helped her be less afraid and I think the clock radio we bought to play classical music helped her as well.
The best thing I did for myself: Probably being with my Mom the last week of her life. True that the best thing you do for someone else is the best thing that you can do for yourself.
The best thing someone did for me: when I came home from visiting my Mom in hospice, John had made me a dinner of all the vegetables from our garden. It was a great act of care - from the planting, to the tending of the plants, to picking them and preparing them at just the right time. She would pass away later that night, and the next day he dragged me to the county fair to look at cute animals. I was sad, but I also knew that I was truly loved.
The one thing I'd like to do again, but do it better: Starting a new class at a new college two days after your parent dies when your own health is questionable is not a good idea. So it's hard to say how things might have been different if I'd tried to get out of my teaching commitment at the last minute, in spite of the guilt I would have felt. Or not driven to DC every week for physical therapy during the semester. The class went fine, but I was exhausted, know what I'm saying?
I stopped
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