I didn't post last Sunday, so I'm using my Easter icon today.
Holy crap. I drove 115 miles (ish) today. Seriously. I live up in NW Harris County (a far northwest suburb of Houston). I drove from there to close to downtown, which is 30 miles, to see Monica. I then drove 20 miles north to just north of Houston Intercontinental Airport to the North Harris branch of Lone Star Community College. I was told the other day that I would need to head over there to see an adviser because NH is the only branch that has the medical billing/coding certificate program I want to do. Then I drove 40 miles down to the clinic pharmacy in southwest Houston to grab meds for Sis and me. I finally drove back home for another 25 miles. My entire body hurts from all the driving. Thank GOD for muscle relaxants and vicodin. And thankfully, it's the weekend, which means I don't have to be productive. (I just realized that that same distance would have taken me 3/4 of the way to Austin had I been driving west instead of all over Houston. This is why I miss Austin so much: It would be completely unheard of to drive anywhere near HALF as much on a given day as a resident of Austin. *wistful sigh*)
I'm also sore because I vacuumed and did the dishes last night. This is a super rare thing for me to do, because I'm generally in too much pain to do it. But, I decided that Mom needed some more help around the house and I was the only one to do it. Sis is so busy with trying to make sure she doesn't fail her classes that she doesn't really have time to do anything else, and, of course, Mom's working her ass off 40+ hours per week. The dishes are one of the few things that I'll rarely ever do. I just hate doing it. I'd rather brush the toilet bowl. But we had no clean silverware, knives, or large utensils available and it was driving me crazy so I bit the bullet. I just threw in my noise-cancelling headphones and rocked out to my iPod. Mom kept forgetting that I had the earphones in and I'd catch her talking at me, though I couldn't hear her. I kept having to have her walk over, pull the ear bud out of my ear, tell me what she needed, and put it back in. Muse, in particular, made the dishes dealable. However, there was one thing that made me partially regret doing them: Sis had taken a lidded casserole dish of what used to be peas out of the fridge and just pitched the whole thing into the sink. That dish sat for god knows how long - none of us could pinpoint when Mom had cooked the peas at all, but the guess is at least 3 weeks ago - and was fully molded and had fruit fly larvae crawling. If I had had anything in my stomach, I would have puked. Instead, I tried not to breathe, and didn't look at the dish until most of the disgusting grossness had gone down the drain. Sis came home from school and said, "Oh my God, is that Em doing the DISHES?!?!?" I told her to shut the fuck up because I had to deal with gross stuff she had left to mold in the sink instead of just rinsing it out. (Especially since she'd lectured me about not leaving dishes to soak in the sink just a couple of weeks ago.) But, I made it through. And I was still able to move my arms enough to blow-dry my hair this morning.
As I mentioned above, I had to go get advised at Lone Star North Harris today. See, I made a major step in getting into school (I KNOW!!) on Tuesday: I took the entrance exam. Since I haven't taken any college classes since 2005 (when I dropped them all due to medical and work stuff), they made me take the entrance exam to see if I needed to take remedial reading/writing and math. I personally thought it was stupid since I'm a transfer student, and particularly so since it cost us $30 for the priviledge. My reading score (out of 100): 99. Writing: 97. Math: Pre-algebra was 71; Algebra? 29. Yep. 29. See, I haven't taken Algebra since 1999, where I only made a C because I told my prof about Sis being in the psych hospital after trying to kill herself (which was true, as Sis was admitted to the adolescent psych hospital two days before my senior prom and stayed there for almost 3 weeks. That kind of thing does kind of screw with your ability to concentrate, and especially in a subject that you struggle mightily in already because you have a math-related learning disability.) Variables are my enemy. And I forgot there was such a thing as "order of operations." That's how long it's been and how little I've needed more than basic computation skills in the last 13 years. There were so many I just guessed on because I had no fucking clue. Thankfully, that college algebra course has transferred to Lone Star from Austin Community College, which means I won't have to take remedial math. Whew. However, the trip up I-45 was a total freaking waste. All the adviser did was say, yep you don't have to take remedial english or math. And you can take any of these pre-reqs. And here's the name and number of the contact person for the Health Information Technology program. And my favorite "I don't know... Susan, do you know??" in answer to my question if I can CLEP out of English Comp I, because it'll just be a waste of my time and money to take a class I'll obviously ace. BTW, Susan didn't know either. All of that shit I could have done by myself, or at least over the phone. I am SO PISSED that I wasted all of that time and gas and energy for five minutes with a lady who was really bad at communicating.
I then got to spend 2 hours waiting in the clinic pharmacy to pick up 2 meds for Sis and one for me. Joy. I spent the time blasting classical into my ears to block out the TV tuned to CNN's coverage of Romney's speech to the NRA (I'm totally anti-gun, because I've never seen any good come from them. Then again, when you're repeatedly threatened at gunpoint by your father, you develop a distaste for them), the noise of at least 60 people talking at the tops of their voices, several people watching videos on their cell phones or listening to music without earphones, five screaming babies, the clinic overhead announcements, and, finally, the automated announcements calling the next number in line (you get assigned a number like at the deli counter to pick up your meds). The sound of "Rhapsody in Blue" was never so welcome. I also finished one novel and started the next in the series. That's how long I waited. It was freaking riDONKulous.
I have to say that my sanity during all of this driving was only saved because of podcasts. I listened to this week's "Wait Wait Don't Tell Me" (NPR game show that's funny) on the way to see Monica, Wil Wheaton's recent Radio Free Burrito on my way up to school, and then two different Nerdist podcasts driving from northeast to southwest to northwest. I love the internets. Seriously. I HATE the radio with a passion because I never seem to get anything but commercials. And when I don't want to listen to music, I can just put on one of my many podcasts and listen to funny people talk at me. Yet another thing I think is directly attributable to Steve Jobs and his iPod: the advent of the podcast. He was a crazy super-genius.
My favorite meteorologist is saying that we're going to get rain and possible severe storms late Sunday into Monday. Since the last batch of rain missed Cypress completely, I'm hoping that we'll get a little this time. I LOVE thunderstorms. LOVE them. This stems from the fact that the house I grew up in was on the ridge around a deep valley and had nothing but glass windows in the back to allow for the view. When storms would roll in, we'd turn off all the lights in the living room and just watch the lightning as it streaked across the sky over the valley and south Austin. (That view was one of the few awesome things about that house. The pool was the other awesome thing.) It was ironic that Heather HATED thunderstorms. Then again, she had reasons, since her house had been struck by lightning twice - in separate years - both right over her bedroom. (My comment was, "Why didn't y'all add a lightning rod when you rebuilt the second story?!?!? That would have been a smart idea.")
I'm now lying down (after I finish typing this, that is) and taking those muscle relaxants and vicodin I was mentioning earlier. Because I'd like to have use of my arms later.
I'm also sore because I vacuumed and did the dishes last night. This is a super rare thing for me to do, because I'm generally in too much pain to do it. But, I decided that Mom needed some more help around the house and I was the only one to do it. Sis is so busy with trying to make sure she doesn't fail her classes that she doesn't really have time to do anything else, and, of course, Mom's working her ass off 40+ hours per week. The dishes are one of the few things that I'll rarely ever do. I just hate doing it. I'd rather brush the toilet bowl. But we had no clean silverware, knives, or large utensils available and it was driving me crazy so I bit the bullet. I just threw in my noise-cancelling headphones and rocked out to my iPod. Mom kept forgetting that I had the earphones in and I'd catch her talking at me, though I couldn't hear her. I kept having to have her walk over, pull the ear bud out of my ear, tell me what she needed, and put it back in. Muse, in particular, made the dishes dealable. However, there was one thing that made me partially regret doing them: Sis had taken a lidded casserole dish of what used to be peas out of the fridge and just pitched the whole thing into the sink. That dish sat for god knows how long - none of us could pinpoint when Mom had cooked the peas at all, but the guess is at least 3 weeks ago - and was fully molded and had fruit fly larvae crawling. If I had had anything in my stomach, I would have puked. Instead, I tried not to breathe, and didn't look at the dish until most of the disgusting grossness had gone down the drain. Sis came home from school and said, "Oh my God, is that Em doing the DISHES?!?!?" I told her to shut the fuck up because I had to deal with gross stuff she had left to mold in the sink instead of just rinsing it out. (Especially since she'd lectured me about not leaving dishes to soak in the sink just a couple of weeks ago.) But, I made it through. And I was still able to move my arms enough to blow-dry my hair this morning.
As I mentioned above, I had to go get advised at Lone Star North Harris today. See, I made a major step in getting into school (I KNOW!!) on Tuesday: I took the entrance exam. Since I haven't taken any college classes since 2005 (when I dropped them all due to medical and work stuff), they made me take the entrance exam to see if I needed to take remedial reading/writing and math. I personally thought it was stupid since I'm a transfer student, and particularly so since it cost us $30 for the priviledge. My reading score (out of 100): 99. Writing: 97. Math: Pre-algebra was 71; Algebra? 29. Yep. 29. See, I haven't taken Algebra since 1999, where I only made a C because I told my prof about Sis being in the psych hospital after trying to kill herself (which was true, as Sis was admitted to the adolescent psych hospital two days before my senior prom and stayed there for almost 3 weeks. That kind of thing does kind of screw with your ability to concentrate, and especially in a subject that you struggle mightily in already because you have a math-related learning disability.) Variables are my enemy. And I forgot there was such a thing as "order of operations." That's how long it's been and how little I've needed more than basic computation skills in the last 13 years. There were so many I just guessed on because I had no fucking clue. Thankfully, that college algebra course has transferred to Lone Star from Austin Community College, which means I won't have to take remedial math. Whew. However, the trip up I-45 was a total freaking waste. All the adviser did was say, yep you don't have to take remedial english or math. And you can take any of these pre-reqs. And here's the name and number of the contact person for the Health Information Technology program. And my favorite "I don't know... Susan, do you know??" in answer to my question if I can CLEP out of English Comp I, because it'll just be a waste of my time and money to take a class I'll obviously ace. BTW, Susan didn't know either. All of that shit I could have done by myself, or at least over the phone. I am SO PISSED that I wasted all of that time and gas and energy for five minutes with a lady who was really bad at communicating.
I then got to spend 2 hours waiting in the clinic pharmacy to pick up 2 meds for Sis and one for me. Joy. I spent the time blasting classical into my ears to block out the TV tuned to CNN's coverage of Romney's speech to the NRA (I'm totally anti-gun, because I've never seen any good come from them. Then again, when you're repeatedly threatened at gunpoint by your father, you develop a distaste for them), the noise of at least 60 people talking at the tops of their voices, several people watching videos on their cell phones or listening to music without earphones, five screaming babies, the clinic overhead announcements, and, finally, the automated announcements calling the next number in line (you get assigned a number like at the deli counter to pick up your meds). The sound of "Rhapsody in Blue" was never so welcome. I also finished one novel and started the next in the series. That's how long I waited. It was freaking riDONKulous.
I have to say that my sanity during all of this driving was only saved because of podcasts. I listened to this week's "Wait Wait Don't Tell Me" (NPR game show that's funny) on the way to see Monica, Wil Wheaton's recent Radio Free Burrito on my way up to school, and then two different Nerdist podcasts driving from northeast to southwest to northwest. I love the internets. Seriously. I HATE the radio with a passion because I never seem to get anything but commercials. And when I don't want to listen to music, I can just put on one of my many podcasts and listen to funny people talk at me. Yet another thing I think is directly attributable to Steve Jobs and his iPod: the advent of the podcast. He was a crazy super-genius.
My favorite meteorologist is saying that we're going to get rain and possible severe storms late Sunday into Monday. Since the last batch of rain missed Cypress completely, I'm hoping that we'll get a little this time. I LOVE thunderstorms. LOVE them. This stems from the fact that the house I grew up in was on the ridge around a deep valley and had nothing but glass windows in the back to allow for the view. When storms would roll in, we'd turn off all the lights in the living room and just watch the lightning as it streaked across the sky over the valley and south Austin. (That view was one of the few awesome things about that house. The pool was the other awesome thing.) It was ironic that Heather HATED thunderstorms. Then again, she had reasons, since her house had been struck by lightning twice - in separate years - both right over her bedroom. (My comment was, "Why didn't y'all add a lightning rod when you rebuilt the second story?!?!? That would have been a smart idea.")
I'm now lying down (after I finish typing this, that is) and taking those muscle relaxants and vicodin I was mentioning earlier. Because I'd like to have use of my arms later.