…is going batshit crazy and stabbing the girl who can’t go three minutes without mentioning Her Research.*

i’ve decided not to continue with my pollination ecology class.  for weeks now, i’ve been bemoaning the fact that i’m not learning anything (it’s one of those idiotic courses where Many Thoughtful Questions are asked, and no actual answers are given.  our instructor is like a sit-com psychologist, nodding and smiling and saying “mm-hm” and “so why do you think that is?” a lot, and offering nothing.)  but the last week or two, it’s been making me actively unhappy and stressed beyond what can even be considered normal for someone of my admittedly tight-wiring, and then i remembered:  i don’t have to do this.  i can quit.  it’s okay, because i’m doing it for myself and if myself says you know what i hate this let’s bag it… well, okay then.  let’s bag it.  i’ve worn the dented crown of quitterhood before, and i survived. 

the upside of being down a class - besides the fact that ever since last friday afternoon, when i made the conscious decision to unburden myself of it, i’ve felt insanely relieved - is that i can now divert all that attention and energy to all the other crap i need to do, like plan the orchestra’s fundraising event, and please don’t ask how i got that job, because i am absolutely clueless myself.  of all the board members, i believe that i’m the least qualified to plan and organize a fundraiser.  so obviously they gave it to me.

the other thing that needs to be dealt with is my throat.  i saw the otolaryngologist (<— and i have yet to pronounce that word fully and correctly on the first try, in any conversation where it’s come up, btw) last week, and we decided that i will have a tonsillectomy, at the horrifying age of 36.  i mean, i make jokes about how old i am and all, but in this case, i actually am fucking ancient, and it will make a difference.  but:  i think it should be done, he thinks it should be done, and so it will be done.  i like him, and i trust him - in no small part because he was straight with me about how much it’s going to suck, while maintaining confidence of a good outcome when it’s all over.  so i’ve left a message with the surgical coordinator, and i’m planning to do it in june, when my mother is taking both my kids to california, and at least i can cross “house full of aggravation” off the list of things that would serve to make my recovery even more painful.

finally, i have to call a guy about some bees.  a couple hives didn’t make it through the winter, so i need to get my grimy little hands on some more.  i told bill that if i’m incapacitated with recovery in late june, he might need to do a little beekeeping for me, to keep things running smoothly.  he was not amused.

*actually, that wouldn’t be so bad either.  maybe i can do both.