Damn

I have just now, as in a second ago, finished the last school project for the semester. Good grief! I never thought I'd make it.
One class to go, which will probably be spent by eating and commenting how quickly in fact the semester went by, and that's that for me. Well besides the observations in the after-school program on Thursdays, but that's another 2 weeks to go and then really, that's it. Well until next semester that is, when I will start the whole thing again... oy.

I'm brewing some coffee, will make an attempt at not doing any work-related activities this weekend, and try and relax while listening to music. What a luxury. Of course the coffee machine is making some strange noise and will most likely boycott my day by not giving me any much-desired cup of java. Just like the CD player not wanting to spit out the last CD I put in there, the light bulb burning in the bathroom, and my keyboard losing the C key, making typing quite an ordeal.
It's a conspiracy.

Tooting one's Horn; Part Deux

In the spirit of continuing the patting on the back, I will add that I got an A+. Yes, the bestest (shush, that's a word, I'm a teacher remember?) of the best.
I went to observe one of my peers the following day who had presented before me, and she told me that I made her look bad. I apologized but must admit that it made my ego fly to the moon. I mean, this is someone who has been teaching for a while and is really good, what better compliment can I get?
OK I'll admit, the best compliment was the professor telling me, the week after, that I was ready, that she wanted me in a classroom...
And this is where reality confronts idealism. Teaching, as we all know, is the worst paid profession in the world. Although we count on them to form our future citizens, we do not appreciate them as such.
Paying for school, living in NYC and at the same time attempting to have a glimpse of life from time to time is definitely not possible while being a teacher, convoluted but true.
So I'll have to wait until I'm almost finished with my masters, simply because I refuse to go into debt so as to pay for college.
In the meantime I'll continue to hone in on my calling, working at it, making it better (yeah yeah, I'm still not perfect), and maintaining the idealism I have so far. Here's to hoping that I never loose it...

Tooting one's horn; Part Uno

'Tis been a while so we'll do this in little parts m'kay? Don't want to overwhelm y'all and make you run the other way while screaming "make her stop, make her stop!" OK, now that that's out of the way let's get down to business.

People, I'm going to toot my horn as Kirk kindly suggested and my progenitor told me to do cause, well, I listen to the voices of reason.
I kicked some serious ass if I may say so myself. Yup I was good, hell I was pretty darn good! I was shaking, my ears were red, my voice trembled but apparently nobody noticed (well apart from the ears which made a couple of people put on sunglasses so as not to be blinded by them).
I was supposed to give a 15 minutes presentation which went well over 45. People kept participating and asking questions, the professor kept smiling and I kept going. My peers, who are teachers as I mentioned, were impressed. The best accolades I received after it was finished were "you looked like a veteran", someone else said "why aren't you teaching in a classroom?" or "can I have your lesson plan? I want to use it in my classroom" and yet another "wow, if you got us motivated you will most definitely motivate children" Shall I go on or is it already too much self-congratulating?

I feel very good about the whole experience. My adrenaline was pumping, my heart was beating fast, and I felt like I was on top of the world.
I am a teacher people. I am a teacher.

Ayayayay

So tomorrow I have a *ahem* huuuuge presentation. Well it's not so much a presentation as a lesson taught to... ta da... teachers! Yup, I will be teaching tomorrow, to teachers, math, geography and general culture through the use of recipes (because we all know how much I love food) as if they were9 year olds. I can't wait to make a fool of myself.
Lesson plan? check. Graphs and charts? check. Cards with recipes? check. Nervous wreck? double check.

I know that at the end it'll be fine, but I also know that I'm probably going to blush and stammer. You see I've taught in the past as a college assistant, but that was different, the poor devils thought that I was a genius and swallowed everything I said. Now I'm confronting people that actually do this for a living! Oh good grief. The lesson is pretty solid, but it's the presentation of it that has me worried. You'd think that I was blasé with all the talking, intervening and general comment-making that I do while in class, but nope, I'm freaking.

I've been preparing this for over a month (and still married by some kind of miracle) and tomorrow is D day.
I'll let y'all know how it went. Tonight? I don't think that I'll be sleeping much...

Nerd?

I've been called a nerd. Hell, I even called myself one in a self-depreciating way but now I'm pondering about the true meaning behind the word.
Speaking from my own experience I do not see it as a derogatory or insulting term; it is just a word that means that you have your nose in your books any moment you can so as to quench your thirst for knowledge. OK, very romanticized, but you get my drift.
I got a very good grade in my exam, and I guess this is where all of this is coming from. I study every day, every time I get (when the neurons are awake), and so I deserved it. Not a perfect score because I made stupid mistakes, but who doesn't.
The whole point is that I wasted a big chunk of my life in just getting by, and now that I've found what I want to do I am investing as much as I can in it. Sue me, so a nerd I am.
I will continue, and will laugh with those that think I make too much of it, all the while patting myself in the back as I remember that I am doing this for me and no one else. And the rewards I get? They will be well deserved.

And I like this... why?

I have an exam tomorrow. I'm freaking out. Why? because I always freak out when I have exams. I've always been a poor exam-taker: I hyperventilate, get sweaty palms, stomachache, headache, I convince myself that I'm getting a brain aneurysm; in other words I fall apart. And the more I study the worse it gets. Papers? I have no problems. Give me a 20-page paper anytime and even if I moan I'll get through it. I know that once I control my breathing when I'm taking the exam all goes well, but it's the building up to it that kills me.
So this is me, a Sunday night panicky person after a weekend of studying non-stop and 2 weeks of reviewing the material. I must be insane, why am I doing this again? Oh yeah, I love what I'm studying, but I could really do without exams though. Some kind of educator I'm going to be...

There's some other stuff going on, but right now I'm up to my ears in Native Language Acquisition to even consider writing any of it, so you'll have to wait until after the exam for me to go back to being my usual blabbering self. Until then, repeat after me:
"You'll do fine, you'll do fine. Breathe, breathe."

Damn winter

I hate winter. No we haven't had such a terrible one: no nasty snow storms, no blizzards or major puddles to walk through, but still, the weeks of hellish cold weather we had just wore me down. As we near the end of a few days of spring-tease (the damn cold is starting again next week) I realize how much I hate being cold and having to layer-on clothes. That and the bare trees. There's nothing more depressing than bare trees. Not only because they look dead, but also they do not cover the grime and the dirt. At least when they're full you can't really see how dirty the buildings are. So it's a fact, I hate winter.

But today was nice. After barely keeping awake in class my walk home turned out to be enjoyable as I was accompanied by a nice springy breeze that made me happy. As usual I took my time walking (I refuse, refuse, to rush during the weekend) and looked at everything that came across my path. I can tell you that there's a pigeon under the bridge I pass by that has digestive problems (for such little animals... damn!), a new car that parks on the street I walk on, plants that didn't make it through the freeze that we had, and last but not least a humongous amount of dog poop on the sidewalks. What's up with that?? Were they buried under the ice and have been kept for all eternity?
New York was the example to be followed by all when it came to dog poop. You have a dog, you automatically become a scooper. If you don't scoop you get whammed with a $100 fine. Well apparently scooping poop is like alternate parking: bad weather? no need to move your car or pick-up your dog's crap. Granted, they weren't in the middle of the sidewalk, but because I'm a klutz (clumsy for all you non-Yiddish speakers) I look very carefully where I put my feet and so I could see them everywhere. I wonder if the non-scoopers thought it would fertilize the trees... that are bare.

Once I got home the fun started: studying. I'm still following my I'm-so-happy-to-have-a-second-to-spare schedule and getting things done for school. I feel like I've been writing papers forever and so saying "crap" and "poop" is feeling pretty good right about now.
After finishing up Monday's assignment I decided that I was entitled to a beer, just 'cause. And off I went to breathe-in the last vestiges of Spring we will have for weeks to come and beer I got. I met my neighbors accompanied by Luca (or was it Luca accompanying my neighbors?) on the way back. Can someone explain to me how kids grow so fast? the little shrimp that he was is now almost my size! OK, not really, but I'm short so it almost seems like it. Luca smiled and cooed at the ladies that passed by and complimented him all the while looking at me like I was an alien from another planet. Call it school-stuff or other, but I wonder what's going on in that little head of his. His father forbid me to use Luca as a guinea-pig though so I can't even attempt to probe....

And so my day went, trying to perceive a Lunar eclipse without moving from the house (I'm lazy at this hour), feeling like it's been a month rather than a week, getting ready to do some brainless activities (TV), and rest so that I can, tomorrow, start all over again doing homework, studying, cleaning the house, all under a rainy day wishing for balmy weather and turquoise seas.
Aahhh, at least I have my imagination.

Too many thougths

The problem about not having time is, well, not having time. The reason why I started this blog was so that I could write my thoughts, feelings, anything that came to mind. An on-line journal that was read by me and those that wanted to know what was up in my life. The problem, as stated above, is not having time to write and having such an accumulation that the posts become unbearably long. Get to it instead of rambling on you say? OK.

First, I love what I'm doing. I know that I've said it before, more than once if I recall, but I want to say it again: I love the course my studies are taking. Granted, as I've done in the past I can tell you that I had my doubts at the beginning of the semester. The classes seemed to have no shape, no purpose to the overall concept of what I want to do. But being the trouper that I am I stuck to it, following mechanically the process of reading, doing papers, etc... And although I still don't see the whole picture I'm getting glimpses of it, and I like what I see. Mainly I keep asking myself questions, and that in itself is proof that all is right. I am being challenged and made to think which is for me what education is all about. I only wish I had more time to dedicate to it.
The funny thing is that now I see a relationship to what I want to do everywhere. It's like when you start thinking that you can't do without a certain coat and all of a sudden you see that coat everywhere, whereas you never noticed before that everyone was wearing it. Well now I can't read, hear a conversation, watch a movie without thinking about what I've learned so far.
I'm not sure of what it means, it might be a sure sign of obsession but it doesn't bother me and I'm not driving everyone crazy with it either. I'm just observing and digesting, we'll see where it takes me.

The other amazing piece of news is that I'm calm. I haven't felt this calm, free of anxieties, stress or worries in a long time. Yeah I have gotten annoyed and uptight since I last wrote, but it's not affecting me. I don't know what that is all about either, but I'm enjoying the feeling.

So this has become a boring entry about me, me, me. There's a lot going on, but tonight I feel like I'm wading in a pool, listening to smooth music while watching the stars. I'm going with it all the while forgetting that it's below zero out there. The warmth of my home and the quietness of my mind is keeping me sane.

Eureka!

People, I've seen the light. It took me a while but I think that I've finally figured out how to best manage my time this semester. Phew!

I've been worried sick that I was going to fall behind in classes and would not have time to do all the work that needs to be done. Contrary to the past two semesters, I am now taking 2 classes like I've mentioned before, and with working full time I saw it a tad complicated.
Let's just say that when I come home from work I am so drained, that anything that requires an inkling of mental effort can't even be contemplated.
Beyond reading in the subway, which I've mastered quite well in all these years, I really could no see when I would actually be able to study, write papers and such. Well, this weekend it all came to light.

Yesterday I had my first Saturday class. It starts at 9:30 and so I wake up as if I were going to work, which is the blah part. But getting out at 11:45 leaves me the WHOLE day to write, review, read, you name it. And so I came home yesterday, re-wrote my notes (yes, I'm one of those), read the chapters I needed to read for next week, wrote my journal entries (and yes, I'm in grad school and I have to do journal entries, hey, it's a developmental reading class) and had time to make dinner.
I was so tired that by 11:00 I was in bed and sleeping like a baby. The result? I got up this morning refreshed and in full form, just what I needed to attack the 4-page paper due... in 3 weeks! And it's finished! Yay!
My calendar is updated, all the due dates are in and I'm already organizing the next paper... with time to spare to write in here.

So, although I will not be able to leisure-write as much as I had promised myself at the beginning of the year, I will have a window of opportunity on a weekly basis to indulge in it. I'll try and not write too much about school, but you'll have to forgive me if I do, it doesn't look like I'll have much of a life before this summer.

Keeping busy

The fact of having no classes left and the (hopefully) impending trip to spend Christmas with mom and grandma has me somewhat on the edge. And so this weekend I decided to stay put, empty my mind of all things that might turn my stomach into a knot, and play with the look of the blog...

What do you think??

For someone that has no idea about HTML, CSS, or all those letters that seem to make no sense, no too shabby if I may say so myself.
I had moments of amazing patience and others of utter frustration, but I've finally -sort of- accomplished most of what I wanted to do.

The trip? we'll know on Tuesday - about 4 hours before leaving- if we can go. It's a long story and since the weekend is not over I rather not go into it (the knots and all, you know?).

On the other hand some goods news: I went to see my mentor last week and we decided what classes I'll be taking next semester. One of them is with an eminence in the field. She was recommended to me by the head of the Bilingual Education department at Columbia University, hence the reason I applied to the Hunter program, and so I'm totally psyched! The course is Psychology of Language Learning and Teaching, which is a perfect fit for the class I just took... I love the course my studies are taking.
It'll be a difficult semester: Tuesdays 7:10PM to 8:50PM and Saturdays 9:30AM to 12:00PM, plus my regular work hours of 9:30 to 6:00ish (although I might adjust Tuesdays from 10:00 to 6:30). Busy busy busy, and as of this moment I can't wait, although I'm sure that by mid-semester I'll be posting some exhausted "I'm fed-up" kind of post.

That's about all for now. Hubby is calling me to help with the quesadillas he decided we will have for dinner, so I'm off to chop some onions ...

After the euphoria...

Today I went to Hunter for the last time this semester to drop off my final paper.

There's always something a little sad about that last day. Although you know that you will be back (in my case, for many semesters to come), the fact that you know that most likely you will never again see the people you've shared breathing space with for 6 months, makes it a bit gloomy.
I know I know, we are all somewhat following the same career, and so we will eventually cross paths, but still, it's not the weekly thing you know?
I guess it's the habit of it all, the fact that after a semester you finally got to know the names that go with the faces and then one day puff! It all goes to dust.
Well OK, if a friendship is in the making, the weekly meeting should not make a difference. But the whole point is that it's in the "making", so no long-term connections have been made. You'll never know if those people that have sweated it with you during exams, presentations, and such could have eventually become friends. There just wasn't enough time.

And so I've become a bit cautious in forming any attachments. School? A semester goes by and it's all gone. Work? They either leave or are let go. Neighbors? They move out.
I guess that's why my best friends are those that I've had since childhood and adolescence. Those that shared with me the moments (besides the pimples) when time was not an issue and felt that the hours were eternal; When there was no end to be foreseen and our lives had no further ado than who was talking to whom.

Ahhh, if only to go back to those times... Oh well, another semester wrapped, another one to come soon enough. Nothing left to say but, cheers mate! I made it once again, let the next one be as good as the last. And the next, and the next one after that...

Done, done and done!

I finished my final paper!! yeay!! Now you know why I've been MIA. The semester is over, I have survived yet another term, and I refuse to think of how many more I have coming because I'll crawl under the covers and refuse to come out... kiiiiding.
So I played hooky again today in order to finish the paper, and you know what? I don't feel an ounce of guilt. The paper is pretty good, I got to see hubby (and daylight) and I feel rested... Now that's a good day.
As far as I know the office didn't crumble and the pile of work will be waiting for me like it does every morning. So, I got to fully take advantage of my day.

In other news, there's a bit of a dark cloud hanging over our heads. Hubby and I are to spend Christmas with my mom and grandma, and because of bureaucracy it seems as though it could get somewhat spoiled.
The Spaniards have a strange perception of timing. They refuse to give you an appointment to drop off a visa applications more than 15 days prior to your departure, but yet cannot guarantee that you will get it on time. Can someone explain that one to me?
Well, we're off to the consulate tomorrow morning at 6 AM to stand on line, cross our fingers and light as many candles as possible so that N can get his visa before our December 19 flight... 2 weeks away...
N told me that if it doesn't happen for me to go anyway, and this is where I am completely torn apart.
It breaks my heart to spend the holidays without him, but I know that my mother and grandmother will have theirs broken if I don't go. BUT, if I go, there will be this morose feeling (because the three of us will be missing him) and so it will spoil any kind of celebration.
The whole thing is just messed up. I truly do not know what to do.
Let's hope that the Consulate people see the light and speed things up. Agh, the anxiety.

Figures, there's always something. Anyway, for tonight I will only think of having finished the semester with a great score, and let things be.

Will keep you posted.

Over-analyzing

Monday morning I woke up at 6:15 AM and for once was quick to get out of bed. What made such miracle happen you ask? a dream, or nightmare, depending how you want to look at it. I had been dreaming that I got a bad grade in my up-coming exam.
Let me give you the story behind it: The grade for the class will be made of 3 exams, one oral presentation and one final paper. The professor told us that he would only take the best two grades we get in the exams, therefore, if we're happy with the grades we get in the first two, we don't have to take the third one. Are you with me so far?
I got a 90% on the first one and so I would like to get at least that this weekend in order to wave the third one.

Back to my dream. I had gotten a 70% and was the only one that had to take the last exam! - I say "had to" because I refuse to get a 70 in grad school- Well, needless to say that I was hitting the books by 6:20 AM...
The funny thing is that one of the main readings we have been doing for this test is about the unfairness of grading, and exams, and any assessment that put pressure on the students - it is called, justifiably so, "Punish by Rewards".

And so why would I be dreaming about it? Am I so gun-ho on proving myself to others? Am I so scared of failure?
This whole psychoanalysis of education thing is driving me crazy (no pun intended), and it's not letting me get my beauty sleep. By the time I'm done with my career I'm going to look like an old, tired hag and cursing the behaviorists for the white hairs and wrinkles I'm getting.

And I refuse to pay a professional to tell me that I worry too much!

Never too late to say I'm sorry

I'm too critical, or judgemental some would say, and I admit it: I was quick to have an opinion and I was wrong. Yes, I said it... wrong.
I am referring to my class, remember? As the semester has progressed (granted it's only been what, 3 weeks since that entry?) I now see where the professor is taking us. The readings he put together at first made absolutely no sense, they seemed like a list he made while eating dinner over his kitchen sink; A last minute thought for a class he did not want to teach.
And I wasn't the only one feeling let down by what seemed like a half-ass lecture, more than one of my peers shared my thoughts. But now, we have seen the light, a bit dim and we're not quite at the end of the tunnel, but it's there, like a flickering candle letting us perceive what other mysteries surround us.
The man is actually a genius. I think that I've learned in these past weeks what I never thought would have been possible.
He is nonchalant, not pushy, doesn't expect anything from us, in other words he treats us like adults and not like students... what a breakthrough! I still have the nagging feeling that he's not quite happy with teaching on Saturdays though, but who am I to say.

And so I retract anything I've said about "give me theories and I'll apply them as I see them applicable to the 'real' world". What a bunch of crock, how presumptuous of me.
I've been humbled and have learned my lesson: from now on I'll wait until the end of a semester to criticize ;)

P.S. He's the one that inspired me to buy Emile and The Republic... I've should have known better...

All grown up

"A house without books is a home without soul". I don't know who said that, or if anyone actually did, but I find it one of those absolutes that are so true.

I've always been surrounded by books. Bookshelves were the main entity wherever I lived. What was in them varied: my mother had various interests and so her library reflected that, then when I started living alone it mainly comprised of Spanish books, or anything relating to Spanish literature.
Now? Now I feel all grown-up. I'm starting to create a library that is more than reference books, more than dictionaries and encyclopedias, more than paperbacks of Spanish must-knows and Agatha Christies. I started buying books (yes buying and not picking up other's left overs) that I can't wait to attack. Books that vary in periods and ideologies but all for a definite goal: learn.
My recent purchases: Plato's Republic, Rousseau's Emile, Feire's Pedagogy of the Oppressed (thanks Malichan) and Pedagogy of Freedom, and my mentor's Kaleidoscope, a Multicultural Approach for the Primary School Classroom, by Yvonne De Gaetano.
Throughout the summer I read great novels and mysteries, now I'm going for theorists, new and old.

I guess there is such thing as reading maturity. Age influences how you read and what you read. Don't get me wrong, I still go for comics and good ol' fashion mysteries. But I've noticed that a book that is poorly written does not keep my interest.
Is it becoming picky? Or is it that I've read so many bad thing (I confess, I read Barbara Cartland when I was young) that now I'm starting to search for something better?

I will never dream of saying that I'm a good judge of the written world, but it's like wine you know? You either like it or you don't, and little by little you learn to appreciate what you like in it, which doesn't mean that you are a sommelier.

1 down 2 to go

Today I took the first exam of my Childhood Development class. Ok, so call me a geek, or nerd or anything you'd like, but a 10 multiple-answers test does not call out "grad-school". Especially if the answers are so obvious that, unless you do not even know the title of the course, you can figure them out.
I expected some heavy-duty theory, or name-throwing going on, but no. It took longer to wait for the train, seriously, than to complete the test. Like Nadir said: "more than $800 for that?". Ok, so not everything should be quantified by money spent; I'll give the professor the benefit of the doubt, maybe his idea of teaching is making you want to actually learn on your own.
And yet there's that whole concept of having someone childless teach me about children's development... I don't know, it sort of looses it's credibility, specially if the professor states as a matter of fact that children are a pain in the ass (he did, just like that), but doesn't have a first hand experience of how much of a pain they can be. Plus, how insightful is it to make such a statement? And is this someone who is training teachers to-be?!
I am thankful to be taking this class now and not when I was more naive. I can take what the professors tell me with a grain of salt and filter the information - Give me theories and I'll apply them as I see them applicable to the "real" world-.

That whole concept of professors being larger than life and godlike figures is no longer in me. They are human beings that have a profession and know more than I do about their specialty, not necessarily about life.

It is somewhat sad though to loose that naivete, we end up having fewer role-models and become a lot more picky about who they are. Maturity comes with age, but so does skepticism. Hopefully being open-minded is also a byproduct of the process...

Changes

After a week of nothing special, comes a weekend that looks like nothing special as well. I've started classes and I'm taking them on Saturdays so that they do not interfere with work, it's a choice. Apparently the professor was told only a few days before classes started that he would be teaching it (that's Hunter for you) and so was not available today. Next weekend I'll miss class because I'll be in Spain, and the week after it's veteran's day weekend, meaning I won't being going to school until my birthday, how appropriate.
The course seems interesting enough: Child Development, encompassing psychological, biological and learning theories that, knowing me, will have my mind reeling as to the whys of whats. The professor was kind enough to e-mail us all the readings we will be doing for the semester. I don't know if it serves the purpose of making us save money or to try and convince us to drop the course. There are loads and loads of reading to do. I'm going to be up to my elbows in Freud, Piaget, and the likes. Hopefully my rantings will not become psychobabble and make you all run for cover. I do enough two-cents analysis as it is.
The trip to Spain. My grandma is not doing too well and so I'm going to see her and lend a supporting shoulder to my mom. The strangest thing is to go unto the unknown. It's not like taking a vacation, or going for a specific purpose. It's just going to be there, and I've never done that before. It will most likely be the last time I go to Spain and so it gives it a different kind of feeling.
As children (here we go, and it has just been a class!) we tend to see everything as permanent, as going on forever. Your grandparents' home will always be there, there is no reason for you to think that it might not; the trees will grow and you'll remember how tiny they were, but will always see them, no reason to think that maybe they'll become someone else's trees one day.
We have no problem thinking of ourselves as mobile, ever-changing beings, but those that represent our childhood stability are incapable, to our eyes, of doing it.
It was strange enough that my grandparents moved from the north of the country to the south, the change of scenery was welcomed but awkward at first. We all have memories of that first (for us the grandchildren) apartment we spent our summers in. The fact that when my grandmother goes there will be nothing to attach us to the country is even weirder. I, for one, feel closer to Spain than I do with France, and so it will become like being a stranger in my childhood's land.
Sort of like Mexico. After 12 years of living there I could not go back (and haven't since 1986). Nothing worse than feeling like a tourist in your own home.
It's funny how ready we are to embrace the future but have problems letting go of silly things of the past. It's a balance that should, when done properly, make us whole, but when confronted with it can become a fearful moment to conquer.

The right stuff

I got up at 6:00 AM to finish up a paper. Yup, I like what I'm doing. Now I'm dead at 9:00 PM. It's a price to pay.

Oh

Almost forgot about my promise in Nonsense. I did get a (very) good grade ;)

300 +

You know you must be doing something right when you have absolutely no problem printing 300 plus pages of a study that goes against what you believe in, just so that you can read it and rebut every single coma and period. That's how I spent most of what was left of my evening, after what seemed like an eternal day at work. I searched for those who are against, and I mean against, bilingual education, and I found them. Their theories are solely based on the principles of cost... need I say more? The equation is simple: Keep the masses stupid, it's cost effective; instruct them and it becomes too expensive in the SHORT run.
I will not go into specifics, if you want to know more about it ask me, but suffice to say that the 300 plus page study in question leaves much to be desired as a scientific/objective analysis: they compared 6 non-bilingual schools against one bilingual. Sure, that must have really given them a feel for the field.
Anyway, the point is that although I spent my day in a constant spur of synaptic activity, considered by some as a sure sign of Attention Deficit Disorder because I need to pay constant attention to various silly things around me, I still found the energy this evening to spend some time doing what I like. I have read from some of my fellow bloggers the frustration they reach when the place they spend the most time in threatens to be less than stimulating (namely work). It makes me realize how difficult it is to achieve a balance between what we have to do and what we want to do. How do you train your brain after at least 8 hours of numbing input to try and get a somewhat comparable quality time with that which makes you happy? I would have loved to be able to spend more energy into debating with myself the stupidity of those too narrow minded to see things the way I see them, but I'm too tired to remember what I believed in before my usual 3:00 PM much-needed-but-can't-take-it nap time . Coffee? it helped for a few minutes though I know that I'll be feeling the effects at around 3:00 AM. Chocolate? same thing. I haven't found the answer yet, but I'm sure that when I do I'll be the one writing more then 300 pages and selling them at Barnes and Noble to all those souls searching for Nirvana, or something close to it.