I'm done. I've finished this class and though I'm pretty sure it took a piece of my soul with it, I can't wait to take another one. It looks like I'm getting an A, too, which makes the whole thing really addictive. Like I hear happens with childbirth, I'm quickly forgetting the pain, tears, frustration, and the sky-high stress levels that sent me into some seriously torrential migraine activity. All I can see is my beautiful baby, Accomplishment.
At the beginning of the quarter, when we were in the middle of moving and my internet connection was dodgy and we had no chairs to sit in so I aggravated my sciatic sitting on the floor for hours doing homework, I was feeling like moving to the mountains whilst in my first quarter of school was the dumbest thing I'd ever done. By the end of the class, when I was spending every cognitively acute second on writing my research paper, I couldn't imagine being able to put in that time and effort back in the city. So, sometimes, things just work out.
Now that school's done for the calendar year and, barring a dramatic change in circumstance, I won't be attending the upcoming quarter, I expect to settle into more of a routine around here. School put everything else second, so now I'll be able to help my boyfriend finish up the construction our place, and maybe I'll finally get on top of the kitchen. I hate dirty dishes.
Since I've been hiking nearly every day, I'm starting to be able to identify the trees that surround us, redwoods are obvious, but oaks, madrones, and douglas firs also pepper our mountainside. I'd like to learn to spot edible mushrooms, since I see enough for a hearty (though probably poisonous) meal on every walk. As a recent city-transplant, I'm fascinated by the idea of foraging for food. And I really, really, really love mushrooms, you guys.
My head is doing pretty great, now that my stress level has slacked a little. Up here in the quiet and the trees, it's almost possible to believe I'm normal again. I can hike a quarter-mile uphill and can jog a bit on the way back down, I can tolerate irritating noises for extended periods of time, and I can get more than one thing done in a day. I'm relishing in my productivity, and am tending to push myself harder than I probably should, but after four and a half years of not being able to do hardly anything for myself, this small measure of independence makes me feel all weepy whenever I think about it too much. I'm still not great in the city, and a trip to the grocery store reminds me harshly of my limitations, but I'm grateful for what I have.
Okay, so this just happened and it's weird and I'm not sure if I believe in ghosts but if I did I would be convinced my clothes washer is haunted. I just went to put in a load and there was water all over the floor, apparently leaking from the washer. I shrug, it's a semi-functional, very-used washer, so I figure it's water that didn't drain from the last load, and go to open her up. As soon as the door opens, a flood starts pouring out. The washer is empty of clothes but totally filled with water. The thing is, the hoses aren't hooked up. They're loose in the detergent slot and I just add water manually by turning on the faucet at the other end. The faucets were off, and there wasn't any water leaking from the hoses. I have no idea how the washer got filled, unless my boyfriend was sleep-laundering, which... he doesn't wake-launder, so that's unlikely.