Category Archives: Birthday Crisis

Sleeping and Waking. Injuring and Running. All in a days work.

I would teach from nine to four, sleep an hour, and write from six until midnight, night after night.—Marguerite Young

I wish I was this motivated.

I should be. There is no reason I am not.

But, I am not.

So, instead, I teach from 8AM to 3PM—or 4 or 5 if I have a meeting—everyday, coming home to walk dogs, eat dinner, grade, then couch. Instead of writing, I fondle the remote control, waiting for some titillating piece of cinematic prowess to stimulate my mind into wanting to write or read or do anything productive. What I do instead of doing anything remotely academic or intellectual is I fall asleep watching Jeopardy before 8PM. Then I get up at  an ungodly hour in the morning to grade or to read or to plan my day. It’s sad, really.

I thought this weekend would be different. I thought I had a no-fail plan for catching up on all those things I should have done during the weekends when I was otherwise engaged, be my engagement in conferences or traveling or whatnot (side note: I cannot believe whatnot is in the computer dictionary, and that there is no little red line telling me it’s spelled wrong or not really a word.). I thought this would be the work weekend to end all work weekends, but my neighbors and their dog had another plan.

As I slept peacefully on the couch downstairs where I had fallen asleep watching Bones, I heard a loud commotion outside. I discovered that much like every other weekend since they moved in, my neighbors were having a drunken conversation on their front porch. This conversation was taking place in that I’m-trying-to-be-quiet-but-since-I’m-drunk-I’m-really-being-louder-than-usual radio newscaster’s voice. All monotone and spacey.

They were talking about the beers they were drinking; at least they’re drunken beer snobs, so I get to hear all about different, good beeers, instead of then pontificating about the ins-and-outs of beer pong or Asshole. At any rate, the dog must have had to go pee, because they let her out. Normally, she stays in their yard, does her business, and then goes back inside. But, I am sure, since she’s a smart dog, that she recognized the fortuitous twist of fate, the fact that they were so drunk they didn’t realize they hadn’t put her back in the house, and decided to come over into our yard for a bit. Which wouldn’t have been a bad idea if she would have simply stayed quiet and in the front yard.

However, she decided that it might be nice to go to the back and start snooping around, sniffing by the garage door, and nosing around in our back yard. This one, seemingly miniscule, action resulted in my being up from around 115AM when they awakened me with their revelry until about 5AM when they finally got their dog back in the house, and I finally calmed mine down for the third time. Yes, there were three cycles of Jane (their dog) barking and carrying on, which incited Sydney, who got Celie all riled up, who then got Lily all howly, and then I would come thumping down the stairs to quiet them down. On round number two, I took our dogs outside to pee so they could see that it was just Jane who was in their space. They didn’t really care. They didn’t want anyone in their space at 2AM.

Finally, after this second round, after I startled one of the neighbors while he was peeing in a bush, and after he decided to get Jane into the house, I stayed downstairs, sleeping on the couch until the third round of barking which must have been inadvertently stimulated by a squirrel or something in the backyard. Once those dogs get wacky, there’s almost no calming them down! I fell asleep watching Criminal Minds around 5AM. I should have used the time to write or read, but as per usual, I couched and remoted. I woke up about an hour-and-a-half later and went back upstairs to bed. I got up at 815ishAM. Needless to say, I am worthless today, so I am going to try to read the rest of the books I need to read. It’s about all I’m good for.

*

I finally went to the doctor for my ankle, and I have to wear heel cups, do stretches, and massage it with ice frozen in Dixie cups. I am going to start running again on Tuesday, but I have decided to move my runs to the afternoon, just when I get home from school and after I walk the dogs. I am going to start at the very beginning, so I don’t re-injure my ankle. My hope in running in the evening is that I will be able to run out the stress of the day and run in some energy to read and write for the evening. I figure if I can get to the point where I can get home, walk the dogs, and run by 530PM, I will have an hour for a nap/leisure time before Bec gets home. (I may have to reverse the order of the nap and the run.) Then, I will be more energized. Also, I am going to try to avoid the TV and the Internet between 630PM and 930PM or 10PM. Maybe this will help me get more focused as well.

One thing I will also have to work on is the way I eat. I have been eating like crap lately: lots of cookies, candy, animal products, and soda. I am not sure why I do this to myself, because I feel much healthier when I don’t eat these things. I love grape soda, so I am not sure I want to cut it completely, and a couple of Oreos won’t hurt either. I just need to stop eating ten or twelve Oreos and a couple of sodas each day. On top of regular food! It’s silly, really. And, I will need to stop the caffeine intake, too. No more Americanos that aren’t decaf.

Not only will I need to change what I eat, but when I eat. Seemingly, it would work better to eat more for an early breakfast when I first get up , hopefully by 430 each morning. Then by eating more for lunch, too, I will be able to run five hours later and skip dinner, having popcorn and an apple for a light snack before bed.

*

So here I go again setting goals I may not keep. The goal date for the following is July 22, 2011, my birthday:

  1. Finish a marathon.
  2. Stop shaving my head. Let it grow for Locks-of-Love.
  3. Spend at least half an hour reading the Bible, praying, and contemplating God each day.
  4. Have 75% of my students grow one academic year’s growth.
  5. Finish two chapters of my dissertation.
  6. Run 1000 miles.
  7. Stay vegan.
  8. Learn to say only what is necessary. Listen more than talk.
  9. Read one new book and one magazine from cover to cover each week. Follow the news.
  10. Finish painting the outside of the house.

Birthday 36. And counting.

Here I am at 36 doing something strange with my mouth. That’s my friend Don’s head in the background. He was having a meeting at Payne’s. His third in two days.

I spent the day at Payne’s Coffee in Gas City working on the assessments for the IEI at Ball State, but I started it off with a conversation with a friend who’s trying to make a tough decision regarding her daughters. I had this conversation right after I learned that my childhood best friend, Heather, is having back surgery as I write this. I was torn between coming here to relax/work and spending my day in the hospital with her, but I had to get some work done. Now I feel like an ass for not being with her when she needs me. Again. Anyway, while my friend and I were talking another colleague came in and shared some of her stories from Iraq with us, so the day began in a herky-jerky sort of up-and-down emotional kind of way.

I woke up this morning thinking thoughts of birthday elation. I love my birthday. I have always loved it because I try hard to live with no regrets. The older I get, the more difficult that gets. Should I regret the fact that I haven’t followed the same path as others? I have friends who have kids who graduated from high school this year. I have one friend whose daughter is getting married soon. I have friends who are medical doctors, big business people, and recognized members of their particular fields. I am still struggling through a PhD program. I have no children. I am not well-recognized for anything. Do I need to be? Do I want a life like that? I don’t until I compare myself to other people, which seems to be quite a struggle for me lately. I thought this was supposed to be the crisis that hits on a monumental birthday, not at 36. 36? Seriously. At thirty-three, I jokingly said that Jesus saved the world at that age, and what had I done. Now, I ask myself, What have I done?

I looked back through some of my other entries around previous birthdays, and I don’t mention anything about feeling honestly out of touch or overly emotional. I mention my usual things that I struggle with: my relationship with God and the fact that I feel distant from [Them], my struggle to treat people with a consistent ethic, my desire to eat a compassionate lifestyle with consistency, my desire to make something more of myself, and my inability to be happy with the life God has called me to live. There is always a struggle for me with these things, and they play like a more than broken record throughout this blog and my thoughts, skipping and scratching until I want to pick up the needle for good. But this birthday, this one has me feeling incredibly emotional, teary-eyed, and scattered.

I suppose you, my dear reader, get tired of the struggle, the whining about it, and my attempts at living better only to fail. I grow weary of it, too. What I do know is that I want to just learn how to fix it and have it be fixed. Permanently. Much like riding the bee ride with Iz at the fair, I get tired of going in circles. The ups and down don’t bother me. In fact, they excite me. But the fucking circles make me want to throw up. I get tired of pretending that things excite me at each revolution. I get tired of waving at various scenarios as I pass. “Hey, Iz. Wave at your mom and dad!” translates to “Hey, Corb, wave at the shitty way you treat people” or “Hey, Corb, wave at your questioning about whether or not Jesus matters to you.” It’s fun when you’re on a carnival ride with your amazing goddaughter, but it’s not when you’re on your own personal-life carnival ride.

But, I’ve been reading a lot of Buddhist thought lately, as I’ve indicated, and it seems like a big portion of the Buddhist idea is learning and relearning, which sort of goes against the Christian idea that God changes us. I mean, there is a big portion of Christian practice that leans toward learning and relearning, but it seems to lean on the idea that God is responsible for the change, not the person. I could be misinterpreting things. Maybe I need to be a Buddha-Christ or something. The two spiritualities work together really well. How can you read the Sermon on the Mount and not read it as at least a Buddhist-influenced text?

I’m too busy. Way too fucking busy. I don’t have the time to spend with people that I like to have.

I’m too attached to my computer, spending more time on it than I do with real people. It’s sad when cyber-people become your reality.

I’m too spread thin. Even when I am with people, I can’t concentrate on them. I have a friend who makes each person in a room feel like s/he is the only person there, in a meaningful, you are all that matter kind of way. I want to be that person.

I’m too critical of myself. I suppose I have some good qualities. In fact, I know I have some good qualities, but I focus too much on some of my bad qualities to recognize the ways in which the good ones could make me grow.

Obviously, this post is a bunch of rambling nonsense brought on by my aging. I’ll be fine tomorrow. Really. This quote by John Lennon makes me feel better every time I think about it: “Time you enjoyed wasting was not wasted.” I have enjoyed all 36 years to their fullest. Here’s to another 36 of enjoyment and time wasting.