Why I'm tireder than usual

I have an intern at work. I have a feeling it will make me appreciate Grey's Anatomy all the more.

It's been so long since I started out, but I remember how scary it was. And is. If your first nature is not gregarious and you haven't developed coping mechanisms yet, the fear is almost palpable. To the other person. This intern is definitely an introvert, but possibly also shy, repressed, overprotected and religiously Christian. Her assignment today was to practice greeting the kids as they came in the door. I don't know if it was everyone's assignment, but she emailed me in a panic asking how to go about this. The biggest difference between her as an intern and my time as one is that I wouldn't have had the nerve to ask for help. Maybe she's braver than I thought. So I gave her tips about just plain saying hello as they came in. Then I gave her the classlist and had her take attendence the old fashioned way - roll call. She'd then have the experience of asking for help pronouncing names. The African-American names were quite the challenge for our sheltered hero. but she did fine.

What I never knew about my cooperating teachers, was how very much work it is to model best practices. I was doing fine, thank you very much, with my shortcuts & labor saving devices. Remind me to wear much more comfortable shoes on her observation days.

All told, this should be good for me. And, I hope for her. Was this good for you, too?

a post-birthday world

I really didn'nt want to think about this birthday. After all, this was the one that made it legal to order off the senior menu at Perkin's. I got a cheery invitation from AARP, although they have been sending those things for several years now. I have to face it. I'm not 54 anymore.

It was a day much like many others, in that I got up, went to work, came home and fell asleep in front of the tv shockingly early. Pajamas & pizza delivery was the treat of the evening. I meant to celebrate over the weekend, but that didn't happen either. My birthday remains unfeted.

Perhaps this weekend we can get enough ambition to go to Orlando for a good dinner, perhaps at Texas de Brasil, perhaps the Japanese place with the Koto drummers. Perhaps I will stay awake long enough to research the many possibilities.

One thing I will do for myself is to give myself a much lighter version of me for my next birthday. Not promise some unrealistic exercise regime, not do one of my compulsive food calendars. Just give myself what I want most. Health. Life. Size 12 jeans.

Health: i do know why my sister died. She ignored her diabetes once she had to start injecting. What are a few doughnuts or desserts if the insulin is handy ? I could be angry with her for making horrible choices, but who am I to talk? When she was my age, she was prediabetic, with all kinds of ways to prevent all the maladies that killed her. Much like I am now. I'm as neglectful as she was in prevention. "Oh, dark spector," Scrooge moaned, "show me the way." It's not too late to make changes, but it may be soon. The Ghost of Diabetes Future needn't haunt...


Life: I don't have much of that at the moment. I work, sleep, eat, sleep, repeat. I don't do things I actually enjoy because I'm tired from the work cycle. No way to live.

Size 12 jeans are reasonable. Not too very far from now, but put myself firmly - pun intended - out of the wide women's clohing department. My jeans only come in blue, black, brown & tan. Boring. I want jeanss in every color, even those I don't like. They dont come in wide.
How to start? Did I just finish several cookies with my salad? I guess I just do it. Every woman who needs to lose weight knows exactly how to do it. It's just not fun. Or easy.

Go for the zen: mindful eating, mindful living. Love myself. Pamper myself in nonfood ways. I've lost the same 50 pounds countless other times, why not now?

Why not, indeed. My next birthday present gets started now. Anyone want the rest of my cake?