A just so kinda girl in a crazy chaotic world

by Janie Jones

I love having a routine.  I need structure, reliability, stability.  I like everything to proceed in a orderly fashion.  I like one day to be like the next, and the unexpected to be at a minimum.

As much as dislike being poor and having more things to do that there are hours in the day, I can handle it as long as I have structure and a dependability that my shit sandwich will always contain two one ounce slices of bread, and a… well, you fill in the blank for the rest as long as it is the same day to day.

Unfortunately, the unexpected happens.  I get it.  One needs to be flexible.  To bend like a reed in the wind.  But it’s really hard for me when there aren’t at least a few things I can count on.  I need to build a world around me of things I can control and do function as expected so when the inevitable bump in the road happens along, I have then physical and emotional reserve to deal with it and not loose any semblance of cool.

Why am I telling you this?

Because there have been more things out of control lately than in control.  My ability to roll with the punches is feeling a bit over rolled.  And, to truly mix my metaphors, there’s so much rolling there’s no chance for moss to gather on the stone which is me.  I miss my moss gathering, I tell you what.  I need my moss!

Seriously.  (Segue) I have a library card from Local College.  I have no recollection of ever using it, but I signed up for one the first week of the first semester I ever attended.  Granted it’s been just over a year now, but I’ve always had at least one class in that time.  Now, yesterday I wanted to steal a few minutes in my otherwise busy day and begin research for my biology class paper.  Guess what, stupid card doesn’t work.  And, apparently it’s not good enough for me to email the library using an email account with my name, sending my library card number, identifying my teacher and the project I have to do.  No, she needs more information to “fix” my problem.

So, I think fine, I’ll just use Stickittooyou University’s online library.  Apparently even though they keep me “active” in all other respects, I can’t use the library online if I’m not taking a class there this semester.

Seriously.

Okay.  Roll with it.

I had to give up over 2 hours of my very busy day and pay upwards of $8 in gas to travel back to campus for the second time in one day to be humiliated and embarrassed at this stupid awards reception because I got a scholarship.  Nothing like screaming: here’s a woman too poor to pay for her own education (and thanks to your scholarship they decreased my other financial aid so your award doesn’t really give me any advantage that will help me now, only the consolation that someday, when I’m done with school I’ll have maybe 5 or 10 % less loans to pay but by then I’m theoretically going to be employed again and theoretically have money coming in thanks to my education so, isn’t that a bit backward?  What about now when I’m broke?) that now you can make her parade across a stage in front of an entire gym full of people in a dress that technically doesn’t fit but is the closest thing to dressy attire left in her wardrobe and panty hose she had to buy on the way to the banquet because the one pair she keeps on hand for emergency dressy events were so old the elastic decomposed and they were sagging, literally, down to her ankles before even leaving the house.  (Wow!  How’s that for a run on sentence?  You’d think I’d take a break for a breath, but no, here’s more…)  And, I really don’t care to share my education and career goals with a gymnasium full of strangers.  Not once, not twice, not half a dozen times.  Sorry, I’m just not in to discussing my plans over and over ad nauseam.    If I had one more person congratulate me like I’d just become Queen of the entire Universe I was sure I’d puke on them.  Probably because I was cooking up one devil of a headache that besides from being seriously painful to my head, was making me nauseous, and my wonky eye was picking that particular time to trouble me particularly bad blotting out large portions of my vision making it hard to navigate a podium and unknown territory and my contact in my good eye was dried out and full of a long day’s grit making that eye impossibly uncomfortable and not able to compensate as usual for the huge random blind spots sporadically popping up in the other eye.  And, don’t even get me started on the photos.  Photos.  Really?  Thankfully my discomfort and discomforture pretty much blocked any more concrete memories of the evening.  But it still makes me fume.  I mean, everyone receiving a scholarship is getting one because presumably they excel for some reason.  Either that or they have managed to bamboozle the scholarship foundation committee, but as we’re not likely to hear that, what’s really the point of sitting around for an endless amount of time hearing about how wonderful all the awardees are?  Isn’t that a given?  And, certainly I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but I did write a long thank you letter already.  Why does the measure of my gratitude need to be contingent upon giving up time, money and self esteem at a ridiculous reception when I could be better employing it on studying, sleeping, and nursing my headache?

Okay.  I need to get off the blog and start another lovely day.

But the headache is gone, so maybe it will be a lovely day.  Once I get my damn library card problem fixed.

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