Chere Maman

I often tease my mum that she's the "best mum I've ever had!" I'm a smart ass like that.
But really, she's the best mum I could ever have hoped for. No one in my life comes even close to loving me as much as she does. She's my unfailing champion, and the kicker of my butt. I know she loves me as I am, and that she has high hopes and faith in me. More than anything, she wants me to be happy, and she is one of the greatest contributors to that end. She is an amazing woman.
She's smart; she did some upgrading to her nursing this last year, and got an A+ on her final paper. I was so very proud. She's very good at her job, and it shows in the way patients speak of her. Having a nurse for a mum is a bit of a catch-22 ("I've had patients with their heads shot off who complained less than you!") but terribly handy in 6th grade when you can't bear the idea of anyone else giving you a shot. Last year when I had to go in for surgery, she was there holding my hand, getting me a warm blanket, and though I should be embarrassed to admit it, a teddy bear. (Hey, you lie there about to get your tummy cut open and see how you feel!)
She's beautiful, though I know she doesn't see it. She thinks her hands look old, and I think they're inspiring. Those hands have healed and comforted and soothed countless people, and changed my and my sisters' lives. They are skilled and capable, a testament to those qualities she herself bears.
She's strong and brave, and wise enough to admit when she makes mistakes. She's a faithful friend, standing as a pillar of strength to friends who've lost so much, lately. She's a loyal daughter, and as much as she and Grampy clash, since they're both used to being heads of their own households, she gave up her life here to be closer to them and to care for he and Granny as they get older.
She's courageous in trying new things, taking up both running and kayaking after 50. I was glad to hear the kayak she bought is bright orange, so hopefully no boats will run her over!
She made home a safe place after a time when it felt like it never could be again. She taught me to drive, white knuckled and grim-faced, when we always thought Dad would take care of that. She managed her household well, and fairly, and made me so proud when after digging herself from the financial pit Dad had got us in, she bought her condo and later sold it at a profit. She worked, and works, so hard that we should never go without. She is the best woman I have ever had the privilege to know.
I am honoured to call her my mother, and blessed to call her my friend. I love you, Mum.

Happy Mother's Day!

Just to change things up - FOUR a.m. ramblings...

• To add to the list of most depressing songs: Mad World - Gary Jules (Which, yes, I downloaded because of a Halo commercial. I'm awesome.) "I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad, the dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had..." (I've never had a dream in which I was dying. I've had those where loved ones die though and those are *Definitely* not the best.)
• I hurt. I forgot to take my pills this morning - again! - and it resulted in withdrawal symptoms that, even though I get them with such regularity due to forgetfulness, I didn't recognize until I finally got home at 11:30 and saw the pill bottle. Migraine, dizziness, nausea, tenseness in every muscle I own...just the usual fun and games.
• A couple Advil liquid gels and a sleeping pill....hope they work.
• Kitten is cute, soft and loving. It's a very good thing. (Certainly better than a couple hours ago when she was attacking my feet while I tried to sleep.)
  
• I'm gonna try to sleep again. Thank God I don't work til 2:45.
  

Thoughts at 3am

He hasn't called me in months. It used to be an annoyance, I guess, but now I find myself wondering why he doesn't try. I called him for his birthday a month ago, and that was the last time we talked.
Before that, it was the awkward Christmas gift exchange, where I wondered just what the gaping disparity in "value" meant, and if I'd done something wrong. How foolish of me, to equate monetary value with what he thinks of me...but I'm sorry, it hurts when my Christmas present still has the tag on in from the dollar store, and I see the other gifts you've given don't.
You think I'd know better by now than to have any expectations of him.
He said he thought I'd changed my number. And not told him? Did he really think I would do that? Is that who I am to him?
Is that who I am?
Why do I let him make me doubt myself? I'm a good person, a loving person. I'm a good friend, a good sister, a good daughter, damn it. I fail and I fall but I truly believe that the love I have for those around me is what really matters.
So why does that love get so mixed up when it comes to him? Why is it so entwined with guilt and regret, and yes, sometimes hate?
In the month since he found out I didn't change my number, he hasn't called. Logically, I know it could very easily have nothing to do with me. He's probably deep into the depressed side of his bipolar disorder. Maybe he doesn't call because he doesn't feel like he has anything to give me. And yes, the times we get together for coffee or lunch are nearly painfully awkward, but like I said, I still want him to try. I still need him to try.
Why?
I guess it's just because he is...or at least was...my dad.

Dead (Tired) Poets' Society

Still no sign of the sandman
And the ticks of my cheap IKEA alarm clock
Mock my sleeplessness and fray my nerves
The hours 'til its rude awakening grow shorter
As I become more likely to see sunrise
From the wrong side

I'd offer my kingdom for a good night's sleep
If I had anything to offer but a red bottom line
Instead that crimson ink conspires against me
With its compatriots in stress
Those things personal, temporal and academic
Join the clock in my cognitive chorus

The sandman is a fickle bastard
Were you to ask me
More adept at torture than a hundred sadistic --
Curb my thoughts, my words, my temper
Anger only fuels each cigarette butt
Crushed against my skin

So I release the detritus
And strive to be a depressed person
Who thinks happy thoughts
14,000 things and counting
Waiting for internalization
And a covert glimpse at the sandman

Bullets of Depression - As much fun as it sounds!

• When I'm feeling down, I shouldn't listen to music that makes it worse, but I do. (See, Exhibit A: Michael Bublé, Home.)
• "May be surrounded by a million people, I still feel all alone...I just want to go home."
• I'm cold, I'm tired and I'm stressed and all I want to do is sleep.
• Or eat. Preferably pasta. Are there endorphins in pasta? It seems like it :P Why can't salad be comfort food? I need to go back to my childhood and re-pair my associations.
  
• School work? What school work? I'm just trying to make it to the morning.
• A bad day/week/month can cause you to take to heart a comment you know you should ignore from someone whose opinion does not even rate.
• Friends are amazing, but they can only do so much.
• Some nights are really, really long. This is going to be one of them.
  

Something Positive! Wow!

So you're probably not supposed to have a favourite professor are you? Is that kind of like having a favourite sibling, or child? Oh well. I do! And here's why:

• he is actually practicing right now, though he doesn't have many private clients, he consults for the police and works at the jail.
• because he works at the jail he has some awesomely hilarious stories - things I've certainly never heard in my sheltered life!
  
• he has been super understanding about late papers and rewriting exams because of the way I stress out and stuff - when I hadn't slept in three days a couple weeks ago, he let me reschedule the exam.
• I got a little flustered leaving class tonight, and left my purse behind, and got the following email:

Hey Heather,

You left your purse in class tonight. I have it in my office (Room#). I won't be in on Friday but I hope somebody in the main office on the second floor might be able to help you by letting you into my office. I have cc this to (Main office person) - (Main office person) would you be able to help with this? If you have any problems call me at (Cel Number.)

----

I realized my purse was missing before I got the email - I got home and turned right around. Thankfully we had ended class early and the building was still open. I managed to snag a security guard and he let me into the classroom - and my stomach pretty much hit the floor when I saw that my purse wasn't where I had been sitting. I was so sure it had to be there; I hadn't been anywhere else and I knew I had it right before class. I thanked the guard and started to head out of the building.
Nearing the door, I saw some lights on down the hall, and I thought to myself, "Hmm, I wonder if Reid's still here." So I walked down the hall, and heard his office chair squeak when I got to his door. I had to restrain a little cheer. I knocked, he invited me in, and I looked at him, saw my purse on his desk and exclaimed, "Oh thank God!"
We chatted for a few minutes about how good it was that I'd managed to catch him, and I thanked him over and over, because I had been totally freaking out! I know I'll be better able to sleep tonight knowing that I have it safe and sound!
I don't know how many profs would go out of their way to notice the purse, whose it was, and attempt contact (he didn't have my phone number) - and then keep it safe in their own office and allow me access, and their cel number! I am very thankful it all worked out :-)
Oh, and for the record, one more reason he rules:

• musician.
• W00t
  

Fail

I came in early to school today to work on an assignment. Look at me, being all industrious!
Oh, except, I suck.
The assignment is due in a little over an hour. When I got here, I was feeling pretty good about it, if a little frantic. So I sat down at the computer and entered the data. I ran the statistical analysis, or at least I thought I did? And got results that made NO sense. So I backtracked, and did it again. Still gibberish.
It's too late to ask the prof for help now; she runs another seminar in 20 minutes. I feel about ten kinds of stupid at the moment, if not more.
I guess now I at least have time to get breakfast. That should help with the headache.
(Whine, whine, whine. Now you know why I'm not blogging much right now.)