to go with my discombobulated day. Yes, more discombobulated than usual.
So you know how I'm usually thinking about four or five dumb things and maybe one real thing at any given time? WELL. TODAY I was thinking of like eight or ten dumb things along with five or six real things. My discom is so bobulated, it's not even funny.
Dumb things I was worried about today involved those silly daily errands that stress us all on some level, and today they included attempting to return non-burning Yankee Candles, missing a Rehoboth Beach (!!!) Groupon ( :'( ), mailing out my WARL donations, and eating right. And scheduling a Lupus Foundation pickup, and finding things to donate to the Lupus Foundation (their emails plea the subject, "We desperately need clothing!" and the first line of the body of their emails proclaims, "We desperately need knick-knacks!"). Why do these "little things" that make up our days cause us so much strife! Some days, this list gets checked off methodically and productivity reigns supreme. Some days, even armed with list, you can't get yourself to accomplish things in a reasonable fashion, so you flail from one half-baked worry to another, not getting anything totally right. Why is that! Why, I say!
Medium things I worried about involved school. I was prepared for a lot of things as part of this program: fighting children, absent parents, mean administrators waiting for someone with passion to change a crappy school culture. I was very much not prepared to correct the teacher as she's teaching because she's teaching something that is incorrect -- on a regular basis. She cares! She means very well! She is learning the ropes! She is also, unfortunately, very often wrong. What to do! It is a sticky situation. Also, something greater than a medium worry is the rapidly dwindling budget. I think instructional positions are safe? I'm not entirely sure? So. That is a concern. I, for one, see great benefits in having, oh, a counselor, assistant principal, and media specialist (librarian, for those of us stuck in the 80s who still say "gym" instead of "physical education" (I, for one)). Another (greater than) medium worry is this monster portfolio we have to put together. I started last weekend, due in June. I know. But still. It's a lot.
Real things I worried about were, I don't know, FINDING A PLACE TO LIVE. Our time has come! We can't handle this silly old shared house anymore. We've been at our breaking point for a long time (it's a SHARED HOUSE) and we recently got a kick in the pants to move. Places, money, failed appointments... wish us luck in this long and confusing process. We accept wisdom but only realistic wisdom please (unless you are attaching $$$ to that unrealistic wisdom (eg, "You should live in Bethesda!")).
In a vague attempt to make reading this post worth your while, here is a recipe for a scrub that I wrote! Making scrubs is my new thing. I got totally obsessed the last time I had a day off. I made a bunch from different sources (sketchy no-name websites to Whole Living!) and combined aspects from several to make my favorite! Here you go.
1 c. brown sugar
1 T ground oatmeal
1 tsp honey
1/4 c oil (I like almond oil! I AM SO FANCY)
1/2 tsp vanilla
Mix with a fork, pour into one of those glass jars you're always saving but you don't know why. Rub on and rinse off in the shower! Or just your hands at the sink. I'm not really sure yet how real people use them. All I know is once you massage it in, it's like you're scratching a deep itch that you never knew you had. Mmm.
1 comment:
Yeah, with scrubs I never knew/know how real people used them either. It was like this cosmic secret that I wasn't adult enough to be in the loop for.
My instinct is just to eat it. Honey is yummy.
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