Prac'd

Just finished the Practitioner exam. 74 minutes, start to finish. We have three hours. It just seemed so much less involved than what we were prepared for. I’m writing a blog entry rather than make everyone nervous by getting up and printing my exam, signaling that I’m done.

When I was in college and in law school, I always finished the exam section a significant time before the allotted, and signaling that I was done always rattled those around me, which is a positive in a competitive environment such as that. In this environment, the intent is that everyone passes.

The traffic up here today was the worst EVER. I left the house at 5:05, and didn’t arrive here until 6:35. I was a bit tense when I arrived. I got over it. Mostly. One woman, driving a Jeep Grand as if she were a 15 year old male with a learner’s permit cut me off THREE times in less than a quarter mile, and then acted surprised when my “peace and tranquility” was busted into small pieces.

Today, I handed no man his hat. I did get Mitch the Twitch paying attention to me when I said that I wanted to stay in the house, but would not engage in a discussion based on what I could afford. I had to re-send him the several emails that I had sent outlining my position and non-specific offer, and I’m sure he has deleted those without reading them as well.

He’s such a nudge.

My new printer/fax/scanner/copier (thanks Donna!) is OUTSTANDING, and is suddenly not printing. Blarg. I need more help getting it working with one of the print server or the network hub. SOMETHING needs to work.

Tomorrow is another day. I have some accounting work to catch up on, but I rather think that the day will be spent working on mortgage classes – where to offer them, designing the flyers, where to send the flyers, completing the course books, that sort of thing. In the late afternoon, I am picking up Nicole, who is taking me out for my birthday present, even though we’re more than half way to the next birthday. We’ll have fun.

Chuck is going to BearSnatch all weekend in Galveston, so I’m flying solo – well, at least on Sunday. That boy has more dates than an Arab market.

It’s kind of strange that this is my last prac class. I haven’t breathed a word to a soul, but I’m thinking of volunteering to co-teach prac one next year with Jesse.

I wrote up a book outline for my ghostly experience with Judy (the murdered woman whom I saw at her house a few years ago) and sent it to Donna. She loved it! I have to put the outline into a format that the industry will recognize, and write the first chapter or so. She encouraged me to go to OGG (that’s airline speak for Maui) in August to attend a writer’s conference – I wonder how that would fit with my class reunion and my dad’s 80th birthday that month.
Oh, part of me just wants to be honest, get up and print the silly exam. This low plastic chair is hurting my knees and my lower back.

What if Neitzche was wrong? What if that which doesn’t kill you just makes you bitter?

The weather has just been gorgeous. If it were like this all the time, that would be just fine with me.

I was loading the car tonight (laptop, man bag, ink jet printer, CD-ROM external drive, cables, etc.) and noticed that Barney is looking .. well, like crap! He looks like an old guy in a nursing home right before they have to put him into diapers and feed him with a straw. I wonder if scrubbing him up on Saturday will help. It seems he hasn’t been chewing on himself since his Big Vacation, but of course, he has no front teeth left.

I’m just immersed in this crapola feeling that has underlain everything I’ve ever done or felt in my entire life. It’s all I’m present to (how Landmark was THAT?) Of course, this can be a good thing, because when one (me) gets REALLY clear about a feeling that they’re ready to release – it becomes easy to let ‘er go. And this one, I’d love to let go.

I’m clear that this feeling has colored (would poisoned be a better word? Probably) EVERYTHING I’ve attempted. Only when I can rise about this feeling do I have fully satisfying results. Jayne tells me that I need to reach back and focus on one of those feelings and bring that forward. Uh, hm. Tough gig. Working on it though.

Seeing Tom tonight after class. We have a ton of talking to do about the websites (six gazillion of ‘em) that I have tossed into his lap. Yesterday, we signed up with my registrar for monthly hosting for up to five URLs. Well, hell, that’s going to be soaked up by June, if I have any say over it. I’m going to see what it’s going to take to light a fire under his (very round) butt to get these websites deployed ASAP.

Pappa wants a new car, after all. And he doesn’t want to have to reach down and pay for it.

Nothing produces verbiage like a bunch of time with nothing else to do but think, create words and plunk down the keys.

Not a peep today from either of the gentlemen who had their hats handed to them yesterday; the guy from the Buick dealer, nor Secret Agent man.

Mikey’s coming over on Saturday morning to work on getting ready for the big party on Memorial Day. He’s prepared to start making jell-o shots ALREADY, which will require that we a.) make space in the freezer, which is full, b.) buy some really cheap vodka, and c.) buy shot cups. He’s a nut, but he’s popped up ready to ROLL with this party, and I’m very grateful. He single handedly made WoB #3’s Memorial Day weenie roast last year. All Curt did was hand over some cabbage and pick up some (crappy) chips and queso. Note to file: Mikey, I have a fabulous fondue pot that Sondra gave me. We can keep the queso HOT all afternoon.

Found a massage guy online who claims that he’s studied and can fix TMJ. As in the TMJ that causes me great discomfort EVERY day, wakes me up at night, and which I studiously ignore. He was emailing back and forth with me today about it – asking questions “if you hold your nose and blow, is either ear blocked?” etc., etc. He says he thinks I have a pinched nerve in my neck which is causing the jaw/neck/shoulder tension. I think he’s coming over Sunday for a few hours to fix it. FIX it. He was describing how these pinched nerves NEVER go back to normal, the body just adapts. Well, hell – when I was nineteen, I was in a pretty severe car wreck – and my neck hasn’t been right since. Now that he mentions it, it just gets worse every. Single. Year.

So, what will it be like to NOT have my shoulders up hanging off my earlobes? To not have all this pain? Wow. I don’t know. It’s like what you can do with all the negative thoughts that you finally rid yourself of.

Okay, people are moving around, so I’m going to close down, and hook up my printer.

Now that’s done. Jayne’s done too. To be worried or not? Kyle’s done, and he’s printing his paper. Once he’s done that, I’ll print mine out.

Debby gave me a copy of 365 SOM! How fabulous! I just love her.