I. . . I. . . I! I'm trying desperately hard to write something positive. This has presented itself as a challenge considering the annoyances I've been through just this afternoon.
But I don't have the time or hard-drive to write about all the horrid drivers I encountered on my way to school, so I can spare you of that entirely. You are lucky. Unless you were out there on the roads today in the Orem/Provo area between three and four, in which case I apologize for the trauma it must have caused. I understand completely.
There is only one class I've been really looking forward to this semester. Parenting and Child Guidance. It seems prevalent in my current situation. And it's a subject of general interest as a part of my major. Bonus. Naturally, I've been waiting for Thursday all week for the occasion of this once-a-week class. I've been looking forward to sitting at the feet of a master and learning all the secrets that a marriage/family therapist has to offer. Two and a half hours of drinking secret, masterful goodness.
Then the projector, DVD player, and AUX jacks in our classroom failed at the only job they have and that is to work. She let us out two hours early so she could lecture in full technological glory next week. I attempted not to weep bitterly at the news. Darn hormones.
I huffed and puffed (it's the only way to get around when you are pregnant and out of shape) my little (okay, not horribly little) fanny over to the library to use a computer and la internete. That's Spanish, for those of you who are unfamiliar. I've watched Dora the Explorer, so I consider myself mucho familiar if not nearly fluent. (My husband might cringe when he sees this attempt at Spanglish humor.)
Since moving into our new apartment we've been without internet. Hence Dora the Explorer. I didn't think this would be a huge problem. We were without internet for almost a month when we got married, but we weren't in school then either. On the first day of class, my Family Fiance instructor stood before us and said, "I hope you got the two e-mails I've sent you. And I hope you've all printed off a copy of the syllabus that I posted online."
Second class: My Human Development teacher announces, "Your first paper is due in two weeks. I posted the guidelines and articles for you to analyze online."
Stupid internet. I miss the good ol' days when teachers just killed trees with handouts.
Especially since the library computers don't have the program needed to view the articles of great value and enlightenment needed for this tome of a paper.
And aside from the required concert I have to attend for my Humanities class for which I can't get off work, and the number I was given to schedule an appointment for my rhogam shot (the shot that keeps my body from killing my baby) is an answering machine so I still don't have an appointment, aside from that, I have nothing further to complain about. Thank heavens.
While this may seem a bit morbid and pessimistic, writing this out has been very therapeutic. I'm reading through most of these problems realizing ways I could be more proactive in finding a solution. I sat down in this "Family History Lab" feeling completely helpless and lost. Now I know what I must do, and I am empowered.
Look out world! Here I come! Los empoweredante! (He he. More Spanglish humor. Forgive me, Pablo! XoXo!)