That's Me

That's Me

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

Brain Dead

I'm finally out of finals week. That means I once again know what day it is & I no longer don't remember the last actual meal I ate. I'm 100% positive that Twizzlers and Coke do not contitute a meal. See, I learned something in my nutrition classes. My instructors would be so proud of me.

I had actual meals yesterday, go me.

Finals week=Brain Dead week.

I forgot about Father's Day. All the plans I had made for how to celebrate and gifts I was going to buy...didn't happen. I forgot my Dad's Birthday last Monday until that night when I had to put the date on an assignment and saw what day it was. I may or may not have answered a small child's "Mom!" in a public place, forgetting I didn't have even 1 child with me. And I don't have a toddler.

During Brain Dead week I also say things that show my brain is stuck in research quick sand. Things like, "I just need...[snapping fingers]...[humming] know what I need!" And, "Come come here!"

Or, "I'm just going to paint my toes the purple and the green is going on the rest," while getting ready to paint my toes. It wasn't until Blondie said, "Mom, they're all your toes," that I realized I
didn't actually say my thumb toes would be purple, the rest green, but my brain can't even form a complete sentence. Ginger Girl painted my toes for me. I think she was scared I wouldn't remember how to do it and she'd be seen with Horrible Pedicure Mother.

She's good. 

This quarter was the worst I've had as far as finals projects go. Huge, time-consuming projects that require a lot of research. One of the enormous projects was frustrating me to no end. I wasn't sure I was doing it right, so I'd redo it. Then I'd read the rubric again & second guess myself AGAIN. Finally I called hubby in & he said to go with how I was doing it because it was following the requirements perfectly. Okay, I'll trust you, mister.

After calling him in for the 6th time to check that I had covered everything that I had outlined and that the rubric required, he said he was giving me 20 minutes to finish whatever editing I felt I had to do and then I had to submit it. He came back 20 minutes later and said, "Okay, just stop working on it. It's perfect. If you keep the file open, you're just going to keep going back to change things so just submit it."

Well, I didn't.

And he was right.

I edited it two more times before he walked in & I was busted. What can I say? The boy knows me. I have a wee bit of perfectionism in me. A wee bit. He did save me from over-editing & I'm grateful for that because the final presentation looked amazing and the perfectionism paid off. I got 100% on the assignment and a "very impressive" & "very thorough research".

Last Thursday around 3:00 I told Ginger Girl I needed a nap. I could not keep my eyes open one second longer. The sweetie pie lied down next to me with her tablet and I was out within seconds, a record for me. Next thing I know Ginger Girl is waking me up with, "Mommy. Mommy. It's 5:43. I don't want you to sleep all night." Sleep deprivation related to nursing school is worse than newborn baby mama lack of sleep. No lie.

While I was so focused on such amazing things as uremia urine in blood--another one a particular instructor will be proud of me for because she drilled it into us all quarter and the humanities totally not amazing and I'm lost as to why I had to study that in order to be a nurse, my kids were amazing about getting everything they each had going on onto the calendar so they could help each other out, get each other places, decide who could plan and make dinner, and they all really stepped up to ease the stress of the week for me. I couldn't have done it without my family's help. Blondie and Ginger Girl also found rather unique ways to entertain themselves.

"Hey, Mom."
"I like your makeup."

Ginger Girl made a bridge between an ant
hill & her "looks like a real ant
hill" trap. 

So until Saturday morning, no one expected me to be human. Now they do. They may regret that.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Come on, spill what you're thinkin'...