Not to put too fine a point upon it but this is the part of the semester that feels like the Pushing part of Labour. You're really tired, dignity is stripped away in tatters and you know you're behaving badly but hoping people will give you a pass. 2 more weeks of classes including this one - hurrah! So many (5)papers to be handed in before this - boo! Including a project plan which sounds kind of easy except you're MAKING IT ALL UP which makes writing a report actually incredibly painful. I took out a stack of books from the library today like "Managing IT for Project Managers", which, doesn't that make you want to claw out your eyes? I'm in a frantic rush to get this all done before, uh, Thursday - ha ha ha because some friends from the West Coast arrive on Thursday and this will be the first time I've seen any of those Left Coast kind of people almost two years. I think I will be wishing them a good morning hunched over my laptop and the wails of the WORLD's crankiest 15 month old. It may be molars or my frayed nerves but nobody's very happy about it. Only things that mitigate it briefly is singing "B-I-N-G-O" at top volume and reading her books over and over and over and over again. She has this awesome "Super Chubby" baby book I got from a thrift store called "Grandma and Me" which has pictures of 80's-riffic Grandma's singing along with boomboxes and combing out their afros. It's awesome until she insists you read it 20 times in a row.
But I am not really complaining, no, the internet has been too full of horrific and terribly sad baby death this week - is it just me or do the sad stories seem like they are everywhere of late? Of course they would have always seemed sad, but since Simone when I read these stories it really lingers with me, hangs on like a sad damp scarf. I truly cannot imagine how you go on after that, honestly. I used to get sad, but now it's like being kicked in the stomach. I used to make fun of my Mom for not being able to handle dark comedies and disturbing subject matter and yet, here I am edging in the same direction. My ability to ride spinning rides has already gone - now this? I watched an extremely sad and horrific doc on the weekend called Dear Zachary (the link is to a deadly accurate review, not the official website) which absolutely put me through the wringer in a way I didn't know I could be wrung anymore. It sounds odd to recommend such a thing and there are quirks about it I'm dying to discuss, but it's been forever since I was brought to my emotional knees by a movie for several days. Watch it - maybe. You know yourself and what you can handle.
On the lighter side of the Marigoldie-inspired term "docu-love" - I see IN a Dream just opened in NYC and in "limited release" and it made me all swoony to think of it again (I saw it at Full Frame last year) and remember seeing the mosaics in person in Philly. I recommend, but with less urgency and less heavy heart.
Back to pushing, I'm only 3 center dilated so this could be painful...