I got my first choice practicum placement, I got a job at the University, and I got a swarm of butterflies in my belly that seem to have settled down for the moment, if you can believe it.

I also have a 6am drive to the airport for the Husband’s trip, so it’s bedtime, loyal reader. I’ll fill you in on details as they come.

This Friday, I got offered a job at the social work school. I also got the interview that I wanted at the practicum that I want next year. Both of these are very exciting and I will tell you the moment I have more details. But for now I am exhausted and I want to sleep. Good night loyal reader

At The beginning of the school year, I drastically changed my hair. See picture above. A few months into my practicum, I dyed it back to a more realistic haircolor, and I regret that very much. You see, the principal of the school where I have my practicum sat me down one day and told me that I was dressed too casually for the internship, and moreover, that with my tattoos and my hair, I was “pretty casual already”. Given, I was wearing pants when normally I wore a dress or skirt, I had on a shirt that was less than totally professional although I wore a matching and coordinated sweater over the top. Given, this is the only conversation that the principal of the school has ever had with me on a personal level; most days she basically ignores me. Given, I could have taken their criticism with a grain of salt, and kept my hair the way it was.

Instead I chose to go home, find the most boring hair color I could find, and cover up my pretty pink hair with my insecurities. I really really really really really really really really regret doing that. I’m not sure if I’ve talked about this online before, Facebook does not count, but it really struck me as a moment at which I could have been confident and sure of myself and just worn the most amazing outfits in the most professional manner and totally shoved it up her face. However impolite the conversation was, she’s not the only person who thinks that unnatural haircolor equals someone who is unreliable and immature. I intend to prove them all wrong.

The day before last, Cormac slipped on some ice and hurt his paw. He started limping very pathetically and mewed like a kitten when I touched it. Now, two days have passed and he is still limping when I am watching him and somehow manages to still run to the front door to bark at the mailman, run to the husband to get treats, and then of course resumes limping. We make all sorts of jokes about him being as dumb as a potato but really my baby ain’t too stupid. He knows exactly how to tug on my heartstrings and get what he wants.

You may be wondering why I am awake at all right now. Well, I had class from 830 until 4 o’clock, work at the theater from 530 until nine, took a break and had a beer with the husband and the former roommate, then worked from about 10/1030 until midnight. In the course of that time I had about three red Bulls and now I am totally amped and ready to go for another 16 hours. Which is a good thing because tomorrow I have practicum from eight until 430, work at the theater from 530 until hopefully no later than nine, although I am scheduled until 10, and work again from 1030 until midnight.

But Jady, you say, why are you working at the theater if you have a new job doing invoicing for a company? Well, we always figure out our schedules at the beginning of the month at the theater and I had previously chosen shifts set up for tomorrow and today. So tomorrow is another 16 hour day. And on top of that I had so much caffeine that I don’t feel like sleeping even though it’s nearly 130 in the evening/morning. I really I’m going to try and get to sleep because once I do manage that it’ll be pretty damn hard to wake up again.

OK, off to bed for real. Wishing you rest and a warm bed, loyal reader.

I really should be asleep right now but I had to show off my new ring. Fabulous, no?

Sweet dreams, loyal reader.

Friday: 8-3 practicum at the School, update cover letter and resume for new practicum application, hopefully get a visit from C, enjoy the evening.

Saturday: Sleep in, study in West Jordan with S, collect practicum application to send to recruiter, work on research bibliography and reflexive reading response/cultural event paper.

Sunday: read for research, reflexive, and practice class. Work on practice class video analysis, laundry, household chores, finish practicum application, turn in weekend homework, work on Monday invoicing for New Job.

Long time, loyal reader.

So I can’t talk about my practicum because confidentiality is a thing. I can, however, talk about my plans for next year as vaguely as possible. I am applying for a practicum placement next year at a national establishment where I would be working with people who have a lot of substance use issues, which works out nicely with my chosen Substance Use concentration for year 2. Now, anyone who has read Harry Potter knows that the second year sucks; although it is very important to the overall story arc, but don’t worry about me, I am happy to be embarking on the final 17 months of my studies. I am also considering a practicum at an establishment where substance use would definitely be an issue but more significantly, I would be working with people who are considered sex offenders. I have pretty mixed feelings about working with that population but the people who gave the presentation at the practicum fair were both interesting and engaging and answered all my questions to my satisfaction. It would certainly be a set of skills that is highly sought after and very uncommonly found.

I’m dying to know what you think of all this, loyal reader.

So, first things first, SSA nonsense: I have to complete paperwork to reapply for disability benefits, and the same time waiting for my hearing date for my overpayment case, and I’m exhausted by the entire process. The husband is being super sweet and turning it in for me, so I don’t have to wait until next Friday (my only day with time available during business hours).

Second thing: the School where I work (not to be confused with the Theater where I work nor the School I attend) starts up again tomorrow, and I am prepping myself as best as possible. It’s entirely possible that school will go well, I’m just not looking forward to the pressure. I’m setting up a creative writing class for a student body that is primarily ESL/ELL, and it’s going to be a trial by fire. Sigh.

Third thing: masters classes start again on Tuesday, so today I get my shit together for the long haul. Update my planner, buy supplies, mentally prep.

Fourth thing: my weekend looked a little thin, so I finagled myself a spot as the House Manager at the Wasatch Improv Festival. So thurs/fri/sat night I’ll be corralling improv fans. Exciting! Seriously though, this fest is gonna rock.

Fifth thing: anyone want to switch lives? No? Wimps.

I’m sitting here with Former Roomie’s kids, watching planet earth II, wondering what I am going to do with my life in 2018. A few things are for certain: I’m quitting smoking, first of all. I quit for a few weeks in Just Say November, and actually felt pretty good. I’d like to do that again on a longer timeline. I have a few cigarettes left and I’m going to smoke them slowly, ease myself into quitting. Any support I can get for this difficult task is more than welcome. I really don’t have an excuse for not acing this test of self control, and everything to gain.

The truth is that I am intensely addicted to smoking, and I don’t want to give it up. It’s so god damn pleasurable. But it’s going to kill me if I don’t quit. I’m not ignorant to the dangers of smoking, I just haven’t willed myself properly to acknowledge them. I’ve been living in a world where I can smoke and feel good about being ‘independent ‘…whatever, I can’t afford to buy cigarettes anyway, so I might as well get used to doing without.

Isn’t that cross-stitch above delightful? Sister gave it to me for Xmas, and it’s perfect. I love it so much, and only she could gift it as perfectly as she did. That’s right. Two times perfect.

Mom got me a Fitbit for Xmas, and I’ve not yet made good use of it except for my sleep schedule. I also plan on making a workout schedule, but I’m waiting on inspiration to strike on what to do to get in shape. I want it to be fun, but I also want it to shed serious pounds. The later holidays were unkind to my waistline, I basically ate every time I was hungry, bored, interested in delicious food….you see how these things happen.

God, quitting smoking and dieting. I’m Bridget Jones. Bridget Jones without the insane popularity. Or the ability to blog daily.

Wish me luck, loyal reader.

Sometimes, being awesome ruins things.

For example, one of the teachers at my practicum put little treat bags in our mailboxes today, and they included a packet of store-bought cider mix. I heated up some water, stirred it into the cider mix, let it cool a bit, had a drink….and god damn, this cider tastes nothing like the honey crisp apple cider with tuaca, spiced rum and ginger liquor that my husband makes. He’s ruined me with his brilliant cider. Boxed cider packets pale in comparison. Sure, I’ll sip this powdered concoction, but it’s simply not the same.

Likewise, I’ve been on disability for 6 years, got bumped off this March, and got reinstated this August, then got bumped off again. I’m pretty fucking sure that my hand hasn’t grown back, so despite the asymptomatic nature of my bipolar (for NOW), I really shouldn’t have to prove I’m disabled. But the office of the SSA seems to think I’ve gotten ‘better’ (dubiously true), so they’re cutting me off again. Now, the real reason I need to be on disability, for all you haters, is not the monetary support I get every 4th Wednesday of the month, but rather the medicare benefits that make it so I can afford my medication. So y’all can stop whining about giving someone without a wheelchair ‘free money’.

Now, the irony of all this rigamarole is that without medicare, which comes with disability, I would be unable to get my meds, I would turn stupendously crazy, and THEN I’d be disabled ‘enough’ to get on disability. Obviously I can’t put my family through that just to prove a point, and (less) obviously my parents are in a lucky-not-lucky position where they CAN pay for my meds at market value, it’s just about a $1000 a month and god damn it, they’re retiring soon. Give them a fucking cushion to rest on, SSA. Don’t make them make that choice.

What makes me absolutely furious, what boils my blood, is that there are countless other people who are far more impaired than I, whose parents don’t have a $1000 to pitch in for the medications they sorely need. I’m the god damn Meryl Streep of bipolar 1: namely, relatively comfortable and outwardly fabulous. THIS IS NOT COMMON OR NORMAL FOR PEOPLE WITH MY DISORDER. My therapist put it this way: I’m the most high-functioning bipolar she’s ever met. And I need medicare so I don’t go south fast, dragging my dear family with me. The thought of saving money is laughable right now. The idea that I would have to get private insurance is economically infuriating.

I don’t know exactly what happened with the SSA at the beginning of this year, but I have. my. suspicions. Certain assholes who got elected, certain assholes who needed to pump up their minuscule balls by cutting funding and support for programs that help millions, just so these same assholes could say they were ‘shaking up’ shit for the political world. In they process of draining the swamp, people like me, but without the resources to fight back, got drowned.

Well guess what, Nameless Faceless Cowards? I have the competence to tell you exactly what I think of you. I have the words to say how much this sucks, explain the process, and get people on my side. Because, face it, Assholes, there’s already a lot of people on my side. We’re sick of you picking on people who can’t always fight back. You want a fight? Any time, anywhere.

I don’t normally ask this, but please pass on and share. Thanks, Loyal Reader.