sunflowery's Diaryland Diary


Never Fear, I'm Not Quitting College

Do you ever feel like you look like a cartoon? I do, sometimes. Today is one of those days.

I have been having high school anxiety dreams lately. Mostly consisting of people I went to high school or college ignoring me or blatantly ignoring me or talking about a party or event, then pointedly NOT inviting me. I think I'm having these dreams because I feel left out at work. There is a small clique of women that are friends at and outside of work. They eat lunch together, they pick up each other's kids from daycare, they spend time on the weekends together. I like them. I enjoy spending time with them at work. But that's as far as it goes. They aren't mean to me. I just don't fit in with them.

There is one gal that drives me a bit batty. She's loud and complains alot. But she has a lot to complain about. She is young and has 2 young girls and is going through a messy divorce. Still, when she's in the office, she is not very professional what with her loudness and complaining. And heaven forbid you make a mistake and have to come to her with it. She will rip you a new one...yet she is not the supervisor. For future reference, I am going to call her Rabbit. I am going to call her that because she reminds me of Rabbit on Winnie the Pooh. She's loud and cantankerous and yet I suspect she has a soft heart under that tough exterior. Anyway, I have been feeling insecure and left out at work and that's why I'm having the dreams, I think.

You know what's interesting about losing 125 pounds? You finally get to a point where you realize if people don't like you, it's not because you weigh too much. When you finally lose the weight, you have to realize that if people don't like you, it's because of you. That's a tough lesson and I'm working on it. Though I also know that not everyone will always like me. It's just something new I hadn't had to really deal with before.

Never fear dear friends. Someone left a comment about me sticking with school. I have no thoughts of quitting. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Four weeks of one difficult class will not deter me, no sir! I was just trying to contrast how I felt about my first class to how I feel about my current class. We haven't had to actually meet yet, so I'm sure things will change once we've actually met. We have assignments to do before class, though and it's been tough to buckle down and get all the reading and assignments done. I had hoped to get a bunch of it done this weekend, and now it looks like I will have to cram.

My uncle is in the ICU after a nasty ATV accident last weekend. Bob and I will be meeting my folks and my dad's family there tomorrow for an update on my uncle's condition. He's 59 and not the young kid he once was. I guess he was riding in mud, on a trail more experienced that he was, and he flipped the machine over onto himself. He ended up with a bunch of cracked ribs, a hole in his lung and a busted ankle. There have been unforeseen complications, but he seems to be improving. We will find out more tomorrow. I will bring my homework and try to get some stuff done in the waiting room, if possible. Otherwise, Sunday will be chock full of homework catching up.

Hopefully I'll be done by Sunday night though because I've been offered free tickets to the Gutherie's production of "She Loves Me!" If I can use that as motivation, I will go.

Long ago when I was researching gastric bypass surgery, I was told that one of the consequences of having the surgery was smelly gas. More than smelly gas, in fact. I laughed because, really, how much worse could it be. Ask my husband, I had had some doozies. After I had the surgery, I kept waiting for the toxic gas and it never happened. I waited and waited. And yet, my gas was fragrant as a rose. (Or non-smelling.) And then my one year anniversary hit and suddenly I am a nuclear gas dump. Gone are the days of sneaking a squeeker at my desk at work. No more can I secretly secreet in the comfort of an empty elevator. Oh no. The smell is more than a dead give away. The smell is as though something dead crawled up my butt and died. So bad is the stink. And EVERYONE knows it's me by desk proximity. So embarrassing. So gross. So lingering. I need to hand dozens of little cardboard pine tree air fresheners nearby just to rid the residual stench. Blah! If you are looking into the surgery, believe them when they tell you, the gas, it is bad!

2:46 p.m. - Friday, Jun. 03, 2005


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