I could cry, or scream, or likelier, both

by Janie Jones

Let me share, lest I explode: this is a run-down of the last 36 hours…

Monday, 5 am: Alarm clock wakes me up just before the bladder would. It’s officially the ass-crack of dawn and I’m up preparing for my 8am College Algebra class.
Monday, 6:10 am: Run from the house into a grey sea of hot split pea soup. Oh, no, that’s not split pea soup, that’s the atmosphere. Silly Janie. Drive white knuckled the 90 minutes to campus through densest fog ever hoping against hope a suicidal deer won’t decide it’s now or never.
Monday, 7:40 am: Oh, good you have 20 minutes to drive the remaining 3 miles. You have time to stop for a monster bucket of Pepsi.
Monday, 7:45 am: Bloody Hell! The road is closed 2 miles from campus. Detour 15 minutes out of the way.
Monday, 7:58 am: Okay you might just make it if you can find a close parking space. Craaaaaaaap! The lot entry has been redirected. Drive all the way around to the entry on the opposite side of the block. Run like an idiot through split pea soup foggy haze trying not to get hit by other students frantically trying to find parking places.
Monday, 8:05 am: Arrive at classroom. Teacher is late, whole class strewn, bleary eyed and sweaty, along hall.
Monday, 8:30 am: Still no professor. Ask if anyone happens to have the professor’s phone number. Blank looks. Hell, these people are almost young enough to be my legitimate offspring what are you thinking Janie!?! Go in search of an office staffed with anyone humanoid and breathing.
Monday, 8:40 am: Find an open office in the first floor engineering hall. Schedule verified, yes today is the 18th, the schedule does say class starts the 18th at 8am in room 204. Okay, good. We have now officially verified that we all can read calendars and class schedules. No answer at the professor’s office. No answer in the Mathematics Department office, no answer in the Dean’s office. Wait 5 minutes all staring at each other like idiots.
Monday, 8:45 am: Finally get through to the Dean’s office. But, classes never start on Mondays, they always start of Tuesdays. Apparently except in years when July 18th falls on Monday. Seriously. That was the entire excuse for the mix up. Class was supposed to start on a Tuesday, but there was a typo saying it was to start on the 18th and NO ONE IN THE ENTIRE ADMINISTRATION/FACULTY/or FACILITIES office noticed the boo-boo. Dean apparently tells professor to get her butt up to the classroom Q.T.
Monday, 8:50 am: Return to hall outside room 204. Half students have gotten fed up an left.
Monday, 9am: Professor arrives pushing a huge cart and toting a toddler in one of those baby backpack thingamajiggies. Seriously. Our professor has her wee one in tow. Discovers classroom door is locked and she has no key. Wait while she calls the facilities department. Facilities department says this class isn’t being used today. They are a little behind on the whole the 18th is a Monday thing too.
Monday, 9:10am: Finally get into classroom. Class meets for just an hour.
Monday, 10:15am: Back in the car, make long trek home.
Monday, noon: Home in time for lunch. Promise spud to set up the kiddy pool. Supervise swim time, bake in the sun like a piece of pale pasty whitefish.
Monday 5pm: Make dinner for spud. Spud begs for “homework time” (we do Disney Cartoon math and reading worksheets, seriously, she loves it) after dinner.
Monday 7pm: Spud bath time, then story time.
Monday 8pm: Sit down to start Algebra homework. Leif appears. Complain to Leif about algebra homework. Phone rings, make plans for Leif’s birthday party with friends. Leif’s daughter calls, talk to her on phone. Try to do some more home work. Notice time give up go to bed.
Monday 10:30pm: Lights out.
Tuesday 5am: Bloody alarm clock goes off.
Tuesday 6:10am: Luckily no fog this morning. Drive to campus, remember to take alternate route avoiding the 15-minute-out-of-your-way detour. Arrive with time to spare and even get another vat-o-Pepsi.
Tuesday 8am: Class starts on time. Cool heels while professor goes over everything we talked about yesterday to students who left before she was tracked down.
Tuesday 9am: Discover there is no lecture to this class. We show up and do all work on the internet, which I could do from home sans 3 hours of commuting a day at $22 a day in gasoline.
Tuesday 9:30am: Take a “pre-test” so the professor can determine our incoming math competency. Janie: I beg your pardon, can I have the test written in English please. Oh, this is the test written in English. In that case, should I be in this class?
Tuesday 11:30am: Class dismissed. Go in search of dentist office. Miss judge the location, turn the wrong way drive 15 minutes before realizing my mistake. Turn around retrace steps.
Tuesday noonish: Find dentists office. Head for home. Get stuck in afternoon traffic. Stop for gas. Stop to pick up Leif’s prescriptions at the Walgreens.

What is normally a 90 minute trip home takes 2 hours and 50 minutes.
Arrive home, starving, in desperate need of a toilet, and exhausted with a butt load of homework to anticipate after peeing, eating and before sleeping.

Spud: Momma!!!! Where have you been! I’ve been waiting for you forever. Let’s wrestle.

Ahhh the joys of motherhood.

Spud: But Momma, you can potty and eat later. I’ve been waiting for you.

I’m either going to cry, or scream, but likely both, just not until I’ve wrestled, peed, eaten and done all my homework. Oh, yes, and posted this to my blog. Because Janie has to keep her priorities straight you know.

2 Comments to “I could cry, or scream, or likelier, both”

  1. And I’m so glad you did! Funny post, but poor you. Hope things settle down.

  2. Just how big is a vat-o-Pepsi?
    Sounds like you’re cleverer than the faculty staff there, looking forward to seeing how the year goes.

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