What are you looking at?

Cybercry

It's 2:00 p.m. and I'm at work; thus, I should be working. But as I feel I'm on the verge of losing it, I'm going to take five minutes (especially since I'm staying late anyway) to vent at this here keyboard.

Let me say first that I know about all the good things in my life. Work lets me take time out to go to grad school in Chicago, and they're great about vacation days and encouraging you to "take back time for yourself" when work schedules get especially hectic. My courses are stimulating and my classmates (for the most part) have really innovative ideas. I have wonderful family and friends scattered around in both Indiana and Illinois. But even after a four-day hiatus from the office, I still feel like I can't keep it together.

First of all, I can't seem to get back into the groove with school. There's not any more reading to do than last year, but there are plenty more assignments to deal with that invoke stress just thinking about them. Secondly, because my classes fall on two consecutive nights instead of two in one day, I'm out of the office a day and a half a week instead of just one day, which makes me feel disconnected to my work environment as well as the family and friends I was just bragging about a moment ago.

Lastly, I've made some goofs at work that came to light this week and will surely be addressed in my quarterly review tomorrow - one setback that wasn't my fault and two more that were, which doesn't add up well either way you look at it. My reviews usually go something like this:

Boss: "Frema, I can't think of any constructive criticism to give you. Your smile is a ray of sunshine, and your presence radiates warmth and peace to all who fall within your aura."

Frema: "Thanks."

Tomorrow morning could sound something like:

Boss: "Frema, I don't know what's going on with you, but I want you to get your head out your @$$ before I kick you to the employment curb and steal your goshdarn precious Post-Its."

Frema: Wets her pants and bursts into tears.

I'm exaggerating, of course. My boss is a very decent woman, and someone I also consider to be a friend. However, no matter how nice she is to me, she still has to give me a talking-to, and I will, as usual when I feel enveloped in embarrassment and shame, have to fight my big-fat-baby urge to cry. I can only hope giving in to this "cybercry" now will prevent me from losing my dignity and discoloring my underwear come 9:00 a.m. tomorrow.

On top of it all, I forgot to turn off my VCR before leaving for Chicago, which means I missed taping Sex and the City on TBS. No life-altering insights about love and relationships for me. I almost hate myself.

Maybe I'll just start tomorrow with a Schmirnoff.

The In Crowd

While doing my homework last night, one of the best distractors was coming up with this awesomely cool list of phrases that have the prepositional component "in the..." but have nothing to do with actually being in a physical location. Here's what I came up with:

- in the know
- in the dark
- in the closet
- in the lead
- in the moment
- in the spotlight
- in the nude
- in the eleventh hour
- in the flesh
- in the red
- in the hole
- in the heat of the night

Do I know how to avoid required reading or what?

Poor Phil Collins

While watching one of my many recorded TV shows yesterday, I found myself tuning in to a commercial advertising the newest Phil Collins compilation. The CD features about 20 Collins classics from the '80s to today. And if that's not enough to sell you, ordering NOW qualifies you to receive a FREE CD opener.

When a once mad-famous pop artist resorts to selling CDs on television, that's sad enough. But when the biggest incentive to buy a CD is a cheesy freebie, it's time to bury the musical hatchet and become a wedding singer.

That being said, I adore Phil Collins, and the majority of his songs can be found on the soundtrack to my childhood. I wrote many of my Randy Wooten love poems to his 1990 hit "Do You Remember?"

Poor Randy Wooten.

I'll Be There For You, Friends Spin-Off

With a new school year comes the start of a new fall television season, and while I'm well aware that I should be spending less time in front of the tube, internally, I am charged with supporting the legacy that is Friends. So, this past Thursday, I watched the first episode of Joey. It was actually pretty funny, so my Friends spot has been successfully filled. Then, for good measure, I watched The Apprentice for the first time. Badly scripted at times, but overall, fabulous.

Here's my version of the TV Guide:

Monday:
All My Children

Tuesday:
All My Children
Scrubs
24 (once it starts in October)
American Idol (I think I've got til January)
Sex in the City (reruns on TBS)

Wednesday:
All My Children
Sex in the City
* They're just repeats of Tuesday's episodes, but sometimes for fun I watch them twice

Thursday:
All My Children
Joey
The Apprentice

Friday:
All My Children
What Not to Wear

It's not like I have a ton of free time on my hands - Tuesdays and Wednesdays are now spent in Chicago for class, so my VCR is working overtime. And when I AM home, valuable studying time is wasted catching up on episodes of shows I should have watched in their first run. But Carrie just broke up with Mr. Big for the second time! How can I stop watching now? Also, you just don't realize how hard it is to keep up with a daily soap opera. Thank goodness I have SoapNet: "The New Way to Watch Soaps." They're going to start airing Melrose Place tomorrow night.

Once grad school's done, I'll finally be able to concentrate on the really important things in life.

The Future and Beyond

Today is the first day of classes - hooray! As I begin my third and final year of graduate school at DePaul, I can't help but think about where I'll be a year from now. At this point in 2005, things should not be the same.

But what should they be like? Hmmm.... I think I'll be in a new job by then - as much as I enjoy Saint Joe, there's only so much time you can spend at your alma mater before you start craving change. That also means that I won't be in Rensselaer, as it's not the type of town that's flooded with professional openings. I'll be a year older; more startling is the fact that I will be closer to 30 than 20.

I could be married with child (not likely), or at least engaged (maybe). I could be an aunt, a godmother, a bridesmaid (I hope!). Holy crap, I could be addicted to The Swan. Who's to say?

But for now, I will try and focus on the present.

Top 10 Things I Like About September 8, 2004

1. The sun.
2. That fact that I am typing this entry in my underwear.
3. School today!
4. Having a great "first-day-of-school" outfit.
5. Seeing my family.
6. No work!
7. Trix for breakfast.
8. Eating breakfast at all.
9. Having money in my checking account. (thanks, Direct Loans!)
10. Knowing that I can once again watch people jam on their guitars and panhandle for change in Chicago's subways.

It's good to be alive.

Nightlights Are Good

Not that I ever had one, but the idea sure is nifty. Thanks to the whodunit storyline on All My Children, I had horrible dreams last night about trying to track down a killer in the very scary town of Rensselaer. Only MY murder mystery had more blood and fewer attractive people. When I wake up from dreams like that, I'm very aware that my feet have wandered outside of the blanket, therefore giving the devil the perfect opportunity to grab them and pull me into Hell.

Cheery, huh? This ain't the first time I've been plagued with a bad dream. I've been having them consistently since age nine, after my first viewing of Child's Play, which I originally thought to be an adult movie about sex. (Don't ask.) Then came Pet Sematary, Freddie Krueger, Michael Meyers, and a variety of B-grade horror movies. Pet Sematary was probably the scariest; the ghost and the bed-ridden sister haunted me for years. At night, I had to position myself in such a way that I could keep an eye on the closet and the main doorway. The closet had to be closed - there'd be no Chuckies plotting against ME - and I had to be underneath the covers as much as possible - you know, to protect myself from the whole devil thing. (That phobia, though, didn't come from scary movies but my grandmother's religious folklore.) Once, I laid in bed covered from the neck down, stiff as a board for 45 minutes because I thought I heard a voice that didn't belong to either one of my parents. I was too scared to even turn my head.

Most of these habits have carried over into my adult life. I can't go to the bathroom alone after a scary movie, my feet still have to stay under the covers, and I can't sleep with my back to the door. When I moved off campus into my first house, I slept on the couch in the living room for two weeks straight, too scared to be alone in my own room - and that was with a roommate. The closet was huge and held to many terrifying possibilities.

Luke says I'm silly, that I'm old enough to know that there aren't monsters in my closet, devils under the bed, and crazy old ladies waiting to crack my spine. But, bless his heart, after movies like The Ring, he's still kind enough to walk me to the bathroom.