doahleigh - Holy Waste of Teabags!

Yesterday I said something I never thought I’d hear myself say.

“I hate that I don’t have more time to do certain things I really want to do. Like look at cats.”

As in, look at the cats available for adoption on animal shelter websites. Yes that’s right, I’ve been hankering for a feline.

I don’t know why though. I’ve never been a pet person and I’ve never imagined myself having animals. When I was still in elementary school, my friend’s cat had kittens, and I convinced my mom to let me have one. She was white with grey patches, and I named her Sweetie Cakes (aka: Sweetie) (yeah I was a pretty typical eight year old). Essentially she became a family cat though because I didn’t take much interest in her once she grew out of kitten status.

By the way, I love kittens. We always had cats in my house growing up, cats I was pretty indifferent about, but whenever one had kittens, I became obsessed. I’d cuddle them and take pictures of them and name them cute names. I admit, I’m a sucker for kittens. But not cats so much. I prefer them over dogs because they’re usually independent and require a lot less care and attention. Plus they don’t slobber or bark or bumble around like idiots. Still, I never wanted my own cat.

Until recently.

Here’s a little history: Brad has always loved cats. He thinks they’re hilarious. Some of his most joyful laughter is caused by cats being ridiculous. You know, like the Funniest Home Videos’ cat montages? Yeah. So he always thought one day he’d have a cat, and I conceded, saying that someday when we have the space, he could get a cat. I’d even help him pick it out. But it would be HIS cat. His to feed, his to clean up after, his to pay and care for. So when we moved into this new apartment with almost TWICE as much space as our last one, this apartment that allowed cats, we thought hey, maybe now’s the time. But then we heard about the “non-refundable pet deposit” and “monthly cat rent” and quickly changed our minds. Plus, who wants to spend money on food and litter and cat toys and crap like that? Not us! Not right now!

Okay the point of this whole jabbery post is that I’m on period. And though my period weeks are usually like any other week (hi, getting personal here), some months the hormones come on a little strong. So what I’m thinking is there’s all this estrogen flowing and that’s making me feel like I need to nurture something. Some women get like this and they decide they want a baby. Me? I still say hell no to the baby thing. But suddenly I want a cat. I want to look at pictures of cats on shelter websites and pick out cute ones that we could maybe adopt.

I don’t want a kitten because then there’s all the litter-training and spaying and blah blah that come along with kittens. Plus, you never know what kind of cat a kitten will grow up to be, and I need a particular kind of cat. Can’t be skittish or too shy, but it can’t need constant attention. I like a cat that’s like, “Whatever dude I’m over doing my own thing, I don’t care about you” most of the time, but then is sometimes really friendly and wants to sleep in my lap. I want a smaller cat, one that’s lithe and active. Maybe it paws at the tv screen when a cat food commercial comes on, maybe it darts across the room and down the hall and back for no apparent reason. What it doesn’t do is saunter around swinging its big belly, rubbing up against my leg all day.

I’m pretty sure this will pass, so I just need to stay away from animal shelters and pet stores until it does. Because really, I don’t seriously want a cat. Too much work, too much money, and I’ll be stuck with the thing for god knows how long. Right? I don’t want a cat. I just want more time to look at cats and pretend.

Bad: Skipping Capoeira because you still can’t really bend your body.

Good: Going for a walk with a friend to make up for it.

Bad: Deciding to walk to the ice cream place instead of, you know, just around.

Good: Deciding to walk to an ice cream place a mile away (I could be exaggerating there, but it felt that far).

Bad: Getting caught in a downpour just before reaching your destination.

Good: Thinking ahead and bringing an umbrella.

Bad: Only bringing one umbrella for two people.

Good: Reaching the shelter of the ice cream parlor without being struck by lightening.

Bad: Forgetting to take your phone with you for situations such as these.

Also Bad: Not being able to use the “company phone” at the ice cream parlor.

Good: Meeting a kind ice cream manager who let’s you use his cell phone instead.

Also Good: Having a nice boyfriend who will pick you up when you get caught in the rain.

I’m not quite back in school mode yet. I’ve kind of forgotten how to be a student. I’m running myself ragged trying to read every page assigned, to write good papers, to stay on top of every little assignment. I honestly feel like I spend every free chunk of time doing some kind of schoolwork. For every class period, I try to be totally prepared. And for my online class, I’ve been the first in my group to submit assignments every week. But to stay this on-top of things, I work hard. And often.

And then I look at Brad who seems to have a completely different method. I asked why he wasn’t doing homework on Sunday while I was reading yet another 50-page chapter. Surely he had something due early in the week. His answer? “I can’t do it during the day!” Like, how could you even suggest it? Nobody does homework while the sun is out. He writes his papers the night before they’re due. He gets the general gist of an assigned reading and moves on. The other day he told me that he got to class and suddenly remembered he had to give a presentation. So he just made something up on the spot. And ya know what? He does pretty damn good! The presentation went fine, his papers are always up to par, and he’s not totally lost in class.

I, on the other hand, feel like I can barely keep up with the class discussion. I’ve been working on this one 4-6 page paper for four days. I not only read every page I’m assigned, I take notes while I’m reading them! And still, I feel like I’m floundering.

The difference? Brad has been doing this for the last few years. He’s got it down. I, however, have not been a student in four years. I forgot how! Maybe graduate level courses really are that much harder, but wow, I don’t remember feeling this overwhelmed when I was getting my bachelor’s degree. Eventually I hope to get the hang of this and remember how to be a student. In the meantime, I’m already preparing for a presentation that I have to give. In three weeks! Why? Because otherwise I’d find myself standing in front of class with a worthless powerpoint presentation and a blank stare.

Have any of you gone back to school while working full-time? What’s the secret? Because I won’t make it through two and a half years if it keeps going like this.

Remember over a year ago when I so badly wanted that giant tub of cream puffs from Sam’s Club, and Brad thought they were from the devil? And remember how he then surprised me and came home one day with the giant tub of cream puffs? And remember also how I assured him and the Internet that I wouldn’t eat them all in one sitting?

Well I didn’t. As a matter of fact, I ate about half the tub over a many-month span, and then I lost my craving for cream puffs. So when we moved out of our apartment last month and the puffs couldn’t go with us…

…they had to be thrown away with the rest of the frozen and refrigerated foods. Goodbye cream delicious cream puffs, it was fun while it lasted.

My legs have definitely progressed well beyond the “nice and sore” I reported yesterday. Today they straight up hurt! Yesterday I could at least walk without pain; today I wobble. I have to sit down like a pregnant lady—hands gripping the sides of the chair, using my arm strength to lower myself, not my legs. Standing up is even worse.

I started using the handicap stall in the restroom at work because the toilet is taller. That’s less distance from me to the toilet, therefore less time that my legs have to support me on my way down. It’s a good thing I haven’t used a restroom any more public than that because I don’t think my legs could support the hover method.

I know the feeling of a good soreness, so don’t come at me with this No Pain No Gain stuff. That’s what I thought yesterday, that the aching was indicative of a good workout. But today I’m wondering if I did some real damage. I know people can pull muscles in their legs, but is it possible to pull all the muscles in both your legs at the same time? Because every single muscle, from the top of my ass to the top of my knees is screaming every time I move.

The capoeira class description said it was tailored to beginners, but I’m sorry, I gotta ease into it a little more than that. I fear my legs won’t have healed by the time my friends/sisters drag me back there next week. I’m up for a good workout, I expect a little burn and some soreness, but I’m practically immobile! That can’t be right.

I figured I needed an outlet. I figured I needed a workout. I figured, in my busy schedule, I needed an excuse to spend time with friends and family on a regular basis.

Hence, capoeira.

Yes, Brazilian fight-dancing. A couple friends, one of my sisters, my sister-in-law and I signed up for this class. Actually we bought passes that allow us to attend any class on a list of many at the university’s rec center. Capoeira just happened to be the one I picked for us because it fit best in my schedule.

Last week we were too scattered and ended up missing the class altogether. This week, despite still being ridiculously unorganized, we all managed to get inside before the door locked.

The way this class is set up, there is one “expert” to each beginner. So after stretching and learning the basic movements of ginga, we were paired off with an expert to learn kick and escape moves. They were all really nice and patient with us, but I was actually hoping to be a face in the crowd here. I wanted to be in a class of 30, all of us sweating and struggling in unison, each of us a nameless, twisted mass of flesh and fabric to the instructor. Instead, I’ve got an expert in capoeira kicking at me while I try to stretch my body low enough to the ground to avoid her leg.

And then! Then! They gathered us all in a circle called the “roda” where there’s odd musical instruments and chanting and clapping. And suddenly my friend Robin is being pushed into the center of the circle (I’m sorry, she actually had to cartwheel into the circle!) with one the experts and is expected to ginga around, kicking and escaping while we all watch and clap and chant at them.

This is not what I had in mind.

Next, a few of the more skilled students, the ones who have been doing this for years, cartwheel into the “roda” to show us how it’s done I guess. They’re doing things like this and this and I’m all, Hell no!

I managed to avoid my turn in the circle last night because time ran out, but everyone else is insisting we go back next week. They apparently think this is good for us, while I’m over here asking, What about step aerobics? And it’s not because I’m horrible at beginners’ capoeira. Actually I caught on pretty quickly. And it’s a pretty good workout—I was sweaty and tired, and today my legs are nice and sore. And it’s not that I’m not open to new things, even if they do involve chanting. It’s just… I didn’t get into this to perform. I’m not a performer. I didn’t intend to learn a whole new skill, I just want to burn calories. Can’t I inconspicuously stand in the back of a crowded class and do that?

Can you believe how long it’s been? It’s like I don’t even have a blog anymore. Sparing you a long angst-ridden diatribe about the craziness that has been my life of late, I’ll just share the edited version: I’m losing my mind a little. I don’t know what I was thinking when I decided to take all this on at once. It honestly never occurred to me that I couldn’t do it or that it would be too much for me. Which is surprising because normally I’m all about admitting my limits. I usually don’t have a problem saying, Yeah that sounds like a lot of work, I’m gonna go ahead and pass.

But this time I was all, Oh yeah totally, I love change so this will be fun!

A new job, going back to school, moving across the state. All while being homeless for three weeks and having no internet (which isn’t just about the blogging or reading of blogs; I actually need the internet to do well in school and, well, function really). So all of this maybe doesn’t sound that bad to you. Or maybe you’re thinking, yeah wow, that sucks, glad it wasn’t me. But I don’t think you’re fully grasping what this was like. It might be due in part to the fact that I don’t always have grace under fire, if you will. Because usually under fire, I tend to freak the fuck out.

Over the last few weeks, I haven’t had more than a few minutes at a time to think or relax or just be. I spend all day at work trying to figure this new job out; I spend every evening either in class or doing homework (I seriously have enough school work to fill almost every evening); I spend every night struggling to fall or stay asleep; I spend every weekend moving or unpacking. I’m exhausted physically and mentally and emotionally. Five years ago I may have been able to do all this with ease, but what I seem to have forgotten when I was making the decision to take all of this on at once is that it’s not five years ago. I’m old now apparently, and too much chaos and stimulation and just stuff can cause anxiety and stress and exhaustion. Lesson learned.

Speaking of lessons learned, here a few others:

• If you get a job offer and have the choice between starting right away and waiting two weeks, always wait two weeks.

• Especially if you are starting a new graduate program right away also.

• And especially if you are also moving across the state during the same time.

• And if you can’t get into your new place right away, and you’re forced to be homeless for a few weeks, just stay in a hotel. Because bouncing around from one relative’s house to another is not good for your sanity.

• Especially if you’re already stressed out about starting a new job AND going back to school at the same time.

• And if you’re going to do all this anyway, make sure you’re at least on anxiety medication before you get stuck in the gap between jobs where you are temporarily uninsured and can’t see a doctor.

• Also make sure you’re on a sleeping pill.

Now, because this sort of turned into an angsty diatribe, and because Brad tells me I should be focusing on the positive things, here’s a quick list of those:

I LOVE our apartment!
I have a job.
My car is running.
I own clothes.
Our new apartment is so spacious!
We finally got internet at home last night.
I have food to eat.
The apartment has a laundry room. In the apartment!
And two bathrooms.
And an office.
And a dining room.
And a big balcony/porch/deck/whatever.
And a garage!
All the stress will eventually be worth it. I think.

I’m going to try to get back into a regular blogging habit now that we have internet, but I’m still trying to figure out how to fit in regular showers, so this site may have to come after that. I hope you all haven’t run away in my absence—I need this outlet, and I love My Readers—so bear with me. It’s bound to get better eventually.

Hey folks, Brad here.

We’ve gotten some reports of some evil, nasty ads appearing on Doahleigh lately. I’m trying to figure out why they are appearing (no, Shan isn’t desperate enough for money to start selling ad space,) and how to stop it.

To help me out, if you see these ads appear again, please post a comment about it. I’m hoping I fixed it, but probably not. We’ll see.

Thanks faithful readers!

Note from Shannon: May be desperate enough soon.