Posted in Generic Ramblings

I’m Human, but I’m Working on It 

This week I shall share some of my worst habits, in no particular order. I don’t want to be all negative, so I won’t dig into myself too hard. Plus, I’m my own worst critic. I can go on and on about multiple ridiculous things I do (or don’t do), so I’ll limit it to two.

I am not proud of these, and I really am trying to be a better person.

Sometimes…I’m a bit of a nag…

I really hate this about myself. I try so hard not to nag my husband (or anyone else, though with students it is my job; mostly, my poor husband suffers).

He is such a good guy. If he asks me for one little thing, I whine like crazy. For example, he is a poor planner. Now, if he is ill and calls in for a sub at work, it is understandable to have to print his sub notes and class lists for him. 

This sounds like an easy thing to do. However, my classroom is as far from the printer as it can be….and even further from his classroom. I have to enter the building, go to my room, print from my computer, walk back near the entrance to the lounge (and 9/10 times, it was offline or not everything printed so I have to go back), then go to his room. 

But again, if he’s sick, I get it. The problem is when he knows he is going to be gone (like on a field trip). There is zero excuse. Yet he asks me, and I treat him horribly.

He has come back to get me when he had an early rehearsal (and I didn’t) and locked myself – and car keys – out of the house.

He ran home and grabbed me clothes I needed.

And many other things.

My Long-Suffering Hero

Oh! And he doesn’t without a single word of complaint.

Sure, it’s annoying that he can put the dishes in the sink but not the dishwasher. Or his socks on the hamper but not in the hamper. Or didn’t make his side of t he bed after I went to my own early practice. Is he worth the less than minimal effort it will take me to finish the task for him? Of course.

And sure, he should have dealt with all the tree debris after the storm and not waited for the city to do their town inspections and give us a warning. 

Then another warning with a threat of a fine. 

He (eventually) gets stuff done. And he doesn’t bug me when laundry is late because of a debate tournament…or I don’t want to call about something.

I have been making a conscious effort that when I think of or see something he has (or has not) done that is irritating that I am not going to bring it up. Sometimes I am successful, other times not so much. But even when I fail to keep my mouth shut, I have at least thought it out, and I usually manage to choose a more positive tone and wording.

Procrastination…Sort Of

Sometimes…I just decide not to do stuff. I make a deliberate decision, for example, that even though all 60 creative writing students just turned in a paper …. last Friday …. that I am just not in the mood and am not going to grade anything. Not at school. And definitely not at home.

Thus, my pile of grading backs up even further until I’m forced to face it and plow through. Miserably. For hours.

When this happens, if I do it one day, it is very difficult to not do it the next day. And the next. 

And the next.

Thankfully, this doesn’t happen very often. Nine times out of ten, I can mentally talk myself into jut sucking it up and getting it done, because I am very much the type of person who wants to get crap done, so she is free to do whatever she wants later and not have it hanging over her head. Thus, the following Douglas Adams quote does not apply to me.

I love deadlines. Especially the whooshing sound they make as they pass by.



I'm a humble little Anglophile with obscure talents.

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