Scoff

I am sitting here trying to reassure myself that I have not gone mad.
I am sitting here just 15 mins before 11pm trying to allow myself to calm down and reshuffle all of the thoughts that are scrambled around in this brain of mine that just had to sit still,

and then come home, (and have to pass Taco Bell and turn down the 4th meal sign)

and help tuck in, (kiss and hug and quietly beg Johnson & Johnson yummy smelling, fluffy little chicks to stop growing)

and completely switch gears, (set coffee pot for AM, love on dog and give treat, write out permission slip for Z, tuck husband in, make sure all uniformity for proper timely departure for A.M. is in launch mode, drink some water, re-unpack backpack and properly lay out all materials that need tending to, sigh heavily at fact there will be no Dr. Shepard time, ponder just selling plasma to make living...)

from the swarm of thought that was ferousioly spiraling around, (Project #2 Write a non-fiction essay about a relationship you have experienced or observed in your everday life)

from all of the information I retained, (writer's voice and how to use it correctly and the inevitable introduction to Mr. John Steinbeck)

in class tonight.

I had to turn in my first "project" complete with revalatory thesis and all and quite honestly my stomach hurt all day just thinking about it. It is worth quite a bit of my grade and I wasn't 100% sure about it.
Not like I am for sure about the absolute joy and glee my children have when they open their lunch boxes and see that I have not only cut off the crusts of the sandwich (PBJ for Al and turkey with salami for Z) but I have taken a cookie cutter and made it into some fun shape.
Not like I am for sure about the self confidence my littliest chick possesses when he say's, "Here, come take my hand..." and leads me to something he is for sure about telling me.
Not like I am for sure about knowing how eternally grateful my husband is when I have made dinner on the nights that I am away from the nest.
Not like I am 100% sure that if anyone of these participants in this adventure we call the Stone Life went out to the fridge in the garage they would find just about anything that needed replenishing from the fridge in the kitchen and sigh a sigh of relief that mom remembered.

This is not do or die. I am getting it. I am really liking it. I am loving the challenge and the Jillian Michaelsesque let-me-see-you-work-for-it mentality I have somehow adopted.
I walked out, this evening, however, a little frustrated with the very first writing assignment turned in to another on the cusp of revalatory invention process. Realing and swarming, reorganizing and restructuring to make room for more ideas to formulate into a perfectly communicated outline and a thorougly thought out finished project.
Which translates into 7:30, tired, hungry, and wanted to know who forged the permission slip that stated I was legal to start this program up again.
I left in a swarm of teeth chattering smokers out for their 4 minute smoke break, and with a grey lightning bolt ladden cloud following behind me, I heard a crow cawwing at me.
Well, maybe not me but...
#1- it's the night time and
#2- who cares what time it is, why does it seem like it's yelling at me?!
I was feeling overwhelmed enough to have an angry crow "proclaiming" it's frustration for whatever reason. In the middle of the pathway I quickly and promtly pivotted around and stopped, dodging my crabby grey cloud, and wanted to flip him off.
A crow.
I immediately did another about face, fed my other arm through the arm hole of my backpack, and with a little battered humility, me and my grump self took the walk of "I am loosing my mind I am so overloading with new information in this brain of mine" shame.
Which again translates into, I want to cry because this is beginning to be a little hard, I am tired of overanalizing everything to death, and I want to take a nap. Now.
Instead at 11:09pm with everyone tucked in and backpacks packed for school for my little delicious snoozing babes, I will sharpen my pencil and do what was asked of me to complete.
And start the process all over again on Thursday night.
With or without the damn crow and his taunting, "I bet you will quit" caw.
Scoff...


My love, all my love,
C.