How you know you’re PMSing: Something Worf says on Star Trek: The Next Generation makes you cry.
Yeah, dude. I was as shocked as you.
So it seems like a good time to take 180 or so 7th-graders to Sea World. Plus I’m still sick. I think I relapsed yesterday. I had two people tell me on the phone that I sounded worse than they thought I should sound after this many days. Whatever. I only have to talk a little today. I’m not going to be the yeller today. There’s usually someone who has to yell at all the kids and chaperones to get them on buses, and that’s usually me (you can think of that what you will). I’m bringing a change of clothes because I’m going on the rides with my kids, and if I get wet, I am not sitting in wet clothes for the last two periods of the day. One of my admin can cover my class for the three minutes it takes me to change.
Yesterday, we had giant chaperone snafus that eventually all worked themselves out, and meanwhile, the girlchild is texting me that Grandpa stole the door handle (he did). By the end of the day, after quilt class (I just took birds for embroidery…I couldn’t handle any other level of organization of a new project…I’m too much in the middle of this one), I came home and ate and booked a trip! I know. Not far. A friend finally harassed me enough to come visit her (and my quilt, which is hanging in her house) and all her noisy kids (who are much like MY noisy kids, but younger). I will only be there for 36 hours and it’s not until February, but it’s something. I keep trying to do all the somethings that build a life, so the parts that suck don’t suck as much. That is still the very very hard part.
But on the Not Suckage side is that I have finally finished ironing pieces together…I fought the tree last night for an hour and a half…I was going to quit once I finished ironing all the objects together and on the tree…
But then there were a few leaves just lying there, and they looked so simple to do that I thought…fuck it. It’s not that late (you should go to bed early…you’re sick and you’re going on a field trip. Why? I won’t sleep anyway. So true.). So I ironed all the leaves…
Which took a bit longer than I thought, and then I had to do the Sit in the Chair and Mellow Because Your Brain is on ArtFire thing before I could go to bed.
But it’s done. Thirteen hours (still need to iron it onto the background, so I think the 15-hour estimate is still accurate). I’m scared to take it off of this, because nothing’s really connected like it is in the bodies, which are all folded up in a box right now, waiting for the background…and the background is tonight! Wow. I’m on schedule. I had food poisoning, a nasty cold, three art openings last weekend, a chaotic two weeks, and I am still on schedule. It’s funny, because I’m looking at the picture above and thinking, holy crap, that desk is a mess. If anyone who didn’t know me well came in here, they’d think I was a total slob (I am kinda…not that I wanna be, but it just entropies to that. Yes, I know entropy isn’t a verb. Whatever. I’m making up my own damn language this morning.). But really, what I should be thinking is, Yo, Kath. You’re an artist and you retreat into this amazing place where after you work a 60+-hour week teaching kids about respiratory system parts and function, you come home and you make art (AND dinner). That’s pretty amazing. If people aren’t amazed by THAT, and they’re focused on your inability to contain the piles in your house? Fuck ’em.
I’m sure at some point over the weekend, I’ll clean something. I usually do.
One of the questions on a dating site was Which would you rather be? And there are two answers: Normal and Weird. (No combinations allowed. One or the other.). I pick Weird because I am. If weird is the one who makes art until 1 in the morning on a school night, if weird is the one who draws at the dinner table, if weird is the one who sees a drawing in her head in the middle of a conversation with a 7th-grader about robots…then hell. I’m weird. And I don’t want to lose those things. And I know they’re not normal.