I do believe this is the opposite of finishing strong. This morning I woke to the sound of my poor sweet cat, unnerved by the disruption in her routine, yeowling at the side of my bed. I looked to the clock and read 9:45am. If it weren’t for my cat and the rush of adrenaline I got from the realization of the time, I would have never made it (late) to my 10am class. From a routine of waking at 6am everyday with my husband, coffee steeping, making smoothies and eggs, working at my desk for a few hours once he leaves at 7…to this. Me, 3 hours of sleep in, rolling over when he gets up and eventually turning off my 8am alarm, unconsciously. Without my knowledge, my sleeping self was like “nope! Goodnight.”
So of course I get in my filthy neglected car (inside and out) and the gas tank is on E. I risk it, and drive the 5 miles to school anyway…..of course LA traffic does me in and Sunset Blvd exit is closed off the 405. Oh. This is just comical. Or, it would be, if I wasn’t forced to recognize that I have officially been the worst student of my life in this last quarter of grad school. Missing assignments, chronic lateness, maximum absences that one professor can begrudgingly allow. Piles of “need-to-rewrite” assignments in my cue. This is getting embarrassing. From summa cum laude to staring down the barrel of Bs and Cs unless I discover superhuman energy and focus to recover my integrity.
I’ve got backed up emails in my inbox (sorry everyone), my house is filthy. I fill up my car with $10 worth of gas at a time because I wait until the last possible minute to fill up and therefore have to got to the convenient and most expensive gas station down the street from my apartment ($4.49, yowza). Many students have stopped coming to my dance classes because I have not been able to offer them performance opportunities to keep them excited …or maybe because I’m scatter-brained. I can hear the sound of my poor cats’ long nails getting caught in the carpet as they walk. I have had the same pile of clean laundry on my bed for three days. Each night I bundle it up in a clean sheet and move it to the floor, then in the morning I bundle up the laundry-sack again and put it back on the bed! I have not unpacked my suitcase from Tribal Fest….2 weeks ago. Hilarity ensues.
If it weren’t for my husband who works 50 hours a week we would never pay our bills and I would never eat a cooked meal. He is weathering this storm quite solidly and I am so grateful. Well, here we go! 2 more weeks…..I hope I can pull it together.