… from a 13 hour sleep. I came home from class and passed out at 7pm on a friday night.
Go big or go home right?
The adjustment to full-time and school feels a bit like jet lag: I’m happy to be here, but my eyes feel heavy. I’ll adjust. I just need time.
There’s a stomach flu going around right now. A girl in my office and a couple of guys on Scotty’s football team have been bed-ridden by it. I’m quite sure i got some version of it on Thursday night and had it all day yesterday. Had it been a work day, I would have called in sick (and I’m so not the person to take sick days). But being that it was a school day, I ran on adrenaline. I shoved my fist into my stomach where it hurt and avoided standing up too much. I told myself that I didn’t have time to start throwing up (this post is heading in a better direction, bear with me), so when I felt that lump in my throat, pounding heart and faintness I mind-over-mattered it and told myself no way in hell.
The giant fog of a headache made AutoCad greaaaat. But if i missed a class, I would be lost. The semester is quick, only 9 more classes until my final exam. miss one and it’s impossible to catch up. I had a sketchbook assignment as well as an in class assignment in space planning, so there was no getting out of that either.
Thank goodness for my immune system. I think it’s pretty swell. They always say that rural kids have better immune systems than city kids. I lived on a farm until I was 7. Playing in the dirt and running through the forest in bare feet was my forte. Unbeknownst to my mom, after my brothers went off to school (so they wouldn’t tattle on me), I used to go into the chicken coop and climb through the tiny poop covered hole and run around in the back enclosure with all the chickens. Barefoot. In the mud. In the poop. Not a care in the world until I heard my mom calling me from the porch. I would race back to the house and she would violently brush my rats nest hair into a bun for ballet… [Ballet bit the dust after 2 years. I was holding out for the shoes with the ribbons on them, but all the restriction didn’t seem worth it… I did my own awesome blend of gymnastics and dance in the basement- I called it “Fantastics.” I don’t need any of this- I’ll make my own damn shoes, and I’ll dance the way I want with messy chicken coop hair… ]. Pretty sure I owe it to that chicken poop for allowing me to fight off a large part of that flu so that I could bus, skytrain and bus to class and make it through 7 hours of school with a stomach bug.
I don’t need any of this- I’ll have the flu the way I want to.
When i got out of class, I had a text from my boss:
GREAT JOB GREAT JOB GREAT JOB!!!!!!!!
Remember when I said that thing about the deep end? Total jump off into the deep end with this project. I’ve surfaced and realized I didn’t sink like a stone.
Now to keep kicking my feet and stay on the surface.