survival

if the object of the game is merely to survive,
then you've got me beat.
there isn't a heartbeat here left to revive
it's just a lump of meat.
it's just a lump of meat.

...

yes, i am still alive. the four paper thing, that was somewhat of an exaggeration. they weren't four long papers, but just four short ones. two were on gifted and talented kids, the third was a reaction to an article on Response to Intervention and Positive Behavioral Support (two educational reform philosophies currently chic), and the last was just my philosophical statement regarding special education, particularly the new inclusion model.

i am now mostly over with the uh classes. i just have a few little ends to tie up. funny, but as i became aware of the end, i felt a strange nostalgia for it all (or maybe it was just the lack of sleep messing with my emotions). i mean, going to school, i'm all business, no real time for friendships or even interaction; and now, these people that i've seen only peripherally (because i'm so tunnel visioned) are going to be gone. i probably won't see any of them ever again. i guess you get used to the buzz of people, they become the landscape. and even if you don't particularly participate, that buzz kind of infects you, stains you...

one of my biggest deficits (and there are many) is my failure to appreciate people socially. a failure to "relax," you might say. i always couch my interactions in a specific context: i'm talking to this person for this reason. my whole life, i've been pretty directionalized (??), vectored in this way...

friendly interaction is just something that occurs in the in-between times, and, quite frankly, when i am so exhausted that i just allow it to happen... it's funny. one of my most common "social" statements is simply an admission of how tired i am. it is me being (or trying to be) human. i don't tell jokes (not any good ones, anyway), i don't gossip, i don't tell people what i'm thinking, or feeling (unless directly asked, or if the context demands it). all i do is say, "i'm tired."

tired, as if that is the only state that allows me to relate.

so today my schedule is relatively light. and (of course) it seems like i've got some kind of cold. i took some avelox, hopefully it wipes it out straightaway. i would like to write today, perhaps in a coffee shop, during the empty times between treatments. but i notice the weeds are growing, and the house is a mess, and i should do some accountant bs. life is just cleaning up after one storm after another. pay attention to the broken window, and the door falls off its hinges. fix the door, and a pipe bursts. etcetera. keeps me busy, keeps me preoccupied, keeps me tired. aw, what a wonderful life!

willow is really progressing well with her reading. she is also doing okay with violin, although we need to work with her on her motivation (if you do something, try your best, or you might as well not do it at all- i wonder if this applies to grown ups, or if it's just more of the double-standard crap parents dish out). aiden is spirited and talks A LOT; he competes with willow to have something relevant and important to say. i have to work more with him on holding the pencil (he tries to hold it like a "bird's head", but there is still something uncomfortable-looking about it), and i have to work with him on drawing his letters. also tying his shoes. and associating letters with sounds. everyone says, "he's a boy, don't worry." but i want him to be able to express himself in writing and drawing as much as willow can. i don't want him to feel as though he will always be "second." i often worry that we paid so much attention to willow, and are now giving aiden short shrift.


well, i'd better stop lollygagging...

sleep is for the dead.
and living's for dreams.