Archive for the ‘mishaps’ Category

012503_real_home_loan-1Ok, so the title of this post isn’t exactly positive.  Actually, my last few posts on here haven’t been positive, which is not normal for me.  I’m usually a really upbeat person, and even though life isn’t always sunshine and roses, I try to see the best in each situation.  And, well, I guess if you read through the posts, you will see that even on a bad date, I find ways to make it funny.  Or, when dealing with bad neighbors, I try to see the silver lining in starting the home buying process.  So that’s a good thing – turning a bad situation into something positive is still in keeping with the way I try to live my life.

Last Monday I had an appointment with a lender that a colleague of mine is using.  He absolutely loves this woman, and couldn’t speak more highly of her.  The list of documents that I needed to bring with me to the meeting was daunting, to say the least:

  • teaching credential
  • employment contract
  • 3 months of paystubs
  • 3 months of bank statements
  • 3 years of tax statements
  • 3 years of W-2 forms
  • rental agreement
  • social security card
  • passport

Whew!  I had to bring the teaching info because I was trying to get one of the special loans that my city offers to teachers.  I found an accordion divider that held everything perfectly, and was proud of how organized I was.  There was a slight moment (or hour) of panic when I couldn’t find my 2008 tax forms, until I realized that I e-filed last year, and had it all on the computer.  I tore my files and drawers apart looking for it, but hey, at least those are totally organized now.  LOL.

So I walked into the office very confidently on Monday, knowing that my credit score was good(ish) and that I had all of the necessary documentation with me. The office isn’t too far from school, and although they kept me waiting 15 minutes, I still felt good about the meeting.  CM greeted me and apologized for the delay, explaining that she had been out of the office a couple of days the week before, and was trying to catch up with everything.  Not a problem.

We headed to her office and began the process of filling out the loan application, reviewing my documents, and seeing what type of loan I could qualify for.  All of a sudden CM says, “girl, you make too much money!”  WTF?!  I have NEVER, EVER heard that phrase uttered regarding my income.  I’m a teacher, for God’s sake.  Is she nuts?  When I asked what she was talking about she said that I make too much money to qualify for the teacher home buyer loans.  How the heck is that possible?  Yes, I finally earn a decent salary, but I’m not making the top of the payscale yet.  Something seemed strange.  Then she mentioned that I also made too much to qualify for my city’s new home owner loans, as well.  ???  I had never heard that those programs were tied to money.  You’re either a first-time home buyer or you’re not, right?  What does money have to do with it?  Does  this mean that doctors and lawyers wouldn’t qualify either?  Because I can guarantee you that they make more than I do in the first few years of the profession.  Again, this info made me doubt her.

She did say that I could qualify for one type of loan offered through the teachers’ retirement system in California.  Ok, good.  They could give $55K, but it required that I had at least $3K of my own money.  Why?  I had already told her that my parent said they’d give me $10K if I really needed it.  When I asked if the money had to be my own, or if it could come from my parents, she said, “no, it has to be yours.”  When I asked her what difference it made, she said, “well, they’ll know if it came from your account or someone else’s.”  Really?  If it’s in my account, I think it’s mine, right?

Then we came to the part of the application where they were asking ethnicity. Her computer was set up in such a way that she had a screen that she could look at, but she had a 2nd screen that was facing me.  She began to check “Hispanic,” and I immediately corrected her saying, “I’m not Hispanic, I’m Italian.”  And she said, “well, maybe we should keep it as Hispanic, because you might get more money that way.”  I was FLABBERGASTED.  I told her that I wanted her to mark Caucasian, because that’s what I was.  I mean, here is the same woman who not 5 minutes before told me “they” would know if the money was mine or my parents’ yet she was now asking me to falsify my ethnicity to get more money?  Wouldn’t “they” also find out about that?  While we’re at it, why don’t we just put down “Native American,” since there’s probably even MORE money for them.  It’s ludicrous.

At that point she’d lost me.

She ran my credit, and the score was a lot lower than the one that I had run on myself.  I guess my car loan finally showed up, and at the beginning of any loan, it lowers your credit, until you establish a good payment record.  She said, “boy, I wish you’d talked to me before you bought that car because I would’ve stopped you.”  I told her that even if I had talked to her, I would’ve bought the car anyway, because my lease was up and I needed a new one. At that point I just wanted to see what the numbers said.

She  told me that I’d have to come with $20K of my own money and that I qualified for a $325K loan.  Now that may be a lot where you live, but in the Bay Area, that’s nothing.  Seriously, I can’t get a nice condo for that amount in any part of the city that I’d want to live in.  And I don’t want to downgrade where I live and find myself in an unsafe situation.  There are problems with where I live now, but at least it’s safe.  And I don’t own it, so there’s no long term commitment.  Plus, the mortgage payment would be $2100 (including $300 in HOA fees), which is a lot.  If I’m going to pay that much on a mortgage, I want to live in a really beautiful place.  After she told me this terrible news, she also said that because of my credit, I’d need to buy $13K in points to cover the closing costs.  Ok, so I have to come up with $33K of my own money on a $325K loan?  That’s 10%.  These days, people are putting 3% down.  Where are those loans?

I left her office telling her that I wanted to wait. That I didn’t have the kind of money she was talking about, and I needed to discuss all of this with my parents.  But really I just wanted to get out of her office.  She seemed so shady and I really wanted nothing more to do with her.  At all.

So here’s where I am: I’m going to stay here for the next several months and pretend that I’m paying $800 more in rent than I am.  I’m going to put that $800 in my savings account and save up some money.  Plus, it will mimic what my mortgage payment would be like, minus the HOA fees.  It will be good for me to see what my lifestyle will be like with that sort of mortgage payment.  I’ll be able to realistically see if I can really afford to buy something.  I know that by not buying this year I’m losing out on $8K in tax credits, but that’s the way it goes.  Maybe there will be a tax incentive next year, too.  And if not, so be it.  This is not the type of decision that I want to rush into.

By waiting for a while I’ll also be able to build up the credit a bit more, which will help with the amount a bank is willing to loan me.  I also want to consult a few other lenders/mortgage brokers to see if what this woman was telling me is accurate, or if she was out of her mind.  I want to make sure that I go to someone who is trustworthy and who has integrity, neither of which I felt in this woman.

They say that everything happens for a reason, and I think it’s better for me to wait right now.  I don’t want to move around the holidays.  Also, I just found out that I can’t get out of my 1-year lease, so I am stuck here until next October, unless I break the lease.  Which I’m totally willing to do, but I think I’d rather not have that added stress during the holidays either.

So, for now I’m still a renter.  Still dealing with noisy neighbors, but things have calmed down next door a bit, so I think I’ll be able to live with it, for now at least.


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I’m not sure if I mentioned it on this blog or not, but a couple of weeks ago, I signed up for eHarmony (again!).  Third time’s the charm, right?  I paid for a 6-month subscription because I figured that I should give it a good shot this time around.

This first dating update is actually about a date I went on with someone an acquaintance of mine set me up with, so he wasn’t someone I met through eHarmony.  Our mutual acquaintance thought that S and I had a lot in common, similar backgrounds, etc. and thought we’d really get along.  She asked us both if we were interested in meeting, and we connected through Facebook.

That was back in April.  S and I exchanged a couple of emails, but he never asked me out, even for coffee.  I wasn’t overly thrilled with the idea of going out with him because he wasn’t attractive to me, based on the pictures he had of himself on his profile.  Also, he and I have different political philosophies, which is a pretty important thing for me when looking for a serious relationship. At this point I should mention that the acquaintance thought we’d have lots in common because we both went to the same Catholic grammar school, were both Italian, and both had weight issues.  The stuff great romances are made of, right?  I seriously don’t know if I should be insulted or not, because this guy is definitely not what anyone would consider remotely good looking.  Which  may be completely superficial of me, but while I have a ton of weight to lose, I know that I’m a pretty girl, and I’m not as desperate as this acquaintance seems to think I am.

But, regardless of the misgivings I had, a couple of weeks ago, right after I signed up for eHarmony, actually, I decided to contact S one last time just to see if there was anything there.  I sent him a quick and very direct message on FB asking him if he was still interested in seeing whether or not our acquaintance was right in thinking that we’d have a lot in common.  He responded fairly quickly to say that he would love to, and suggested that we meet for lunch or coffee sometime.

We met on Tuesday at a Starbucks that was close to each of our houses, because Starbucks is such a safe first meeting place.  A cup of coffee can’t last that long, right?  Tuesday just so happened to be my first day of school, so I thought that I’d have a few funny stories to tell in case there was a lull in the conversation.  Little did I know that there was no need for me to worry about adding to the conversation.

No, it’s not what you might be thinking – that we had such great rapport that we didn’t have any lulls to worry about.  It was that S talked and talked and TALKED the entire time.  I’m talking literally for 1 hour straight!  And not about something that was interesting, but complaining about family politics, bragging about how much money they had, how he’d had weight loss surgery (but still needed to lose about 75 pounds), and then saying that he was glad he’d never finished his undergraduate degree because he didn’t even need it.  Um, hello?  I’m a teacher. Do you think I might put a value on education?  Instead of impressing me, he was a complete turnoff.  The entire time he was ranting and raving about himself and his family, I just kept wondering how long I’d have to keep this up. I didn’t really say anything the entire time we were having coffee, which is incredible if you know me, because I can talk to anyone about anything, but he simply never stopped talking long enough to give me a chance to share a thing.

Then, just when we were going to leave, he said, “say, do you want to grab a bite to eat at that restaurant right there?”  At this point I think that something took over my mind and body because I actually said, “sure, that would be great.”  WTF?  Why the hell did I just agree to spend more time with this self-involved bore?  What the heck was I thinking?  I’m convinced it was penance for some past indiscretion I’ve committed.

We made it through dinner (which was way more calories than I should have eaten, and is probably the reason the scale showed a 2-pound gain this week), but not before he started bragging about his mafia connections.  For some reason he thought it would be impressive to say, “you know, in a snap of a finger, I could ‘get rid of someone’ if I needed to.  I know who to call to get it taken care of and I know just where to put the body so that it would never be found.”  Way to smooze the ladies, S.  Puleeze.  The thing is, my family actually had some organized crime connections, although we don’t really discuss that too often, so it was hilarious to me that this guy was such a poser.  I can almost guarantee you that he didn’t know any local mafiosos, mostly because my family knows who they all are.  In any case, there was absolutely no point to him saying any of that, whatsoever!  Was I supposed to feel safe that he could have someone “taken care of?”  I’m still not sure what his point was.

Now, beyond his looks, it was truly his attitude that left me wishing I could click my heels 3 times and teleport myself out of the restaurant.  He was smug, fake, a braggart, and one of those people who make themselves feel better by putting other people down.  Such a sign of insecurity.

So, the date finally ended with a quick hug.  I told him to have a good night and he mentioned that he hoped to see me at an Italian festival that was happening this weekend.  Ugh.  So he was obviously hoping we’d see each other again. And why wouldn’t he?  I was a great listener!  LOL.

When he called on Saturday to see if I wanted to meet him at the festival, I let it go to voicemail and didn’t call him back.  Rude, I know.  I felt a bit guilty this morning, so I sent him an email through FB letting him know that I was really busy yesterday and didn’t have a chance to call him back or go to the festival.  Then I told him that while I thought we had a ton in common, I didn’t feel the chemistry was there.  He responded saying that he agreed about the chemistry (right, man, that’s why you invited me to go out with you again), but that he hoped we could be friends.  I haven’t replied.

It was definitely one of the worst first dates I’ve ever gone on, and I’m hoping that the next date (whenever that happens) will be much better now that I’ve gotten a bad one out of the way.  There’s only one way to go from here, right? 😉


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Yesterday I had a fantastic Saturday:

  • Zumba in the morning
  • Headed to Los Gatos to pick up our latest wine club offering at Flemming Jenkins with Ish.  We stayed for a free tasting, just because.
  • Lunch at Willow Street Pizza to have their amazing summer salad special – skirt steak with peaches and goat cheese on mixed greens with a balsamic vinaigrette.  Yum!!!
  • A quick trip to Benefit to buy some new lipsticks.
  • A trip to Walmart to look for workout clothes – more about this on Bella on the Beach.

I was gone from 1:20pm to 6pm.  I was so tired when I got home, but as soon as I drove into the driveway, I noticed that my back door was open.  Not just unlocked, but OPEN!

At first I thought someone had broken in, so I quickly went through the duplex and saw that nothing was out of place.  (Well nothing that I hadn’t left out of place to begin with).

Which means that I left for hours without locking my door!!!  Stupid!!!!

I know exactly what happened, thinking back.  I was running late to meet Ish and I was trying to put the windguard up in the back of the convertible so that I could have the top down on the freeway without ruining my hair.  I couldn’t get the darn thing up (gotta read the manual) and I finally said, “F-it, I’m so late as it is, I need to go NOW.”  I remember putting the windguard in my little pantry area, and I thought I closed the door, but I definitely don’t remember locking the deadbolt.  One of the “tricks” with my back door is that it doesn’t close unless you really pull it.  I must’ve thought that I did, but I obviously didn’t.  When I looked at it, the bottom lock was “locked,” but that doesn’t really work unless the door is closed.

The thing is, I always lock my doors.  Always.  Always have.  Growing up, we lived in a really affluent area of the city with a very small crime rate, but we always locked the doors as soon as we came in the house.  Even in the middle of the day when we were all home.  I continue that habit at my own house, and always have.  Better safe than sorry.

Now what’s heart-warming about what happened yesterday is that even though my house was wide open and asking for someone to come in and steal the many valuable and expensive things I own, no one took a thing.  I live in a neighborhood that has a ton of foot traffic, much of it by homeless types who look like they’ve just gotten out of some sort of halfway house.  Some of them look crazy (literally), but they’re generally harmless.  Still, I make sure to keep things locked up, because you never know. It was such a relief to know that no one came in and took anything.  People respected the house.

I’ve always felt safe at home, and now I know that I truly am. That said, I still plan on locking the doors, just to be sure.

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As you know, yesterday I spent the 4th of July by myself.  I didn’t deal with it very well.  I mean, it’s not the same as being by yourself on Christmas, but it is a holiday that’s meant to be shared with people.  Laughing, bbqing, drinking, and celebrating our nation’s independence. Instead, I was reminded of my own independence and got a bit depressed and down about it all.

After I took a 30 minute walk, I felt much better about my singledom and decided to spend time reading and watching the last few episodes of The Wire, which I had gotten from Netlix. (How AMAZING was that show?!  I’ve now finished the series, and wow, I loved it.  Yes, it was hardcore, but it said so much about city politics, policing, and how easily people can fall between the cracks.  If you haven’t seen it, I’d highly recommend it).

Anyway, back to the real reason for this post.

My parents, my uncle, and I are getting together today to have our 4th of July BBQ, a day late.  I’m going to wear the shirt I found on Cafepress.com.  The one that I thought I would wear on the actual 4th of July (until the plans changed).  I figure that I might as well wear it today, since I spent the money on it and I don’t want to wait a whole year to wear it:


I just love this shirt, and I think it captures the true spirit of this holiday.

As far as the food for the BBQ, we’re going all out – guacamole and chips (appetizers), turkey burger sliders, deviled eggs, pasta salad, and a green salad.  And for dessert?  Well, my mom found “the cutest recipe” in one of her online recipe websites (something along the lines of Family Circle, I’m sure).  It’s Rice Krispy Treats made to look like the American Flag.  Easy and adorable, right?  I said I’d make it, because it seemed easy, and I’m usually bringing some sort of appetizer to these events, so I wanted to change things up by bringing something for dessert.

I went grocery shopping on Friday and got the marshmallows and Rice Krispy cereal.  Then I went along the baking aisle to find some sort of icing that could be used for easy decorations.  I found “easy squeeze” frosting in red and blue ($4.85 each) and then I found an aerosol can of white frosting ($5.50).  This was going to be one expensive dessert.  But, convenience is something I don’t mind paying for.

I thought the easy squeeze packages had some sort of decorating tip on them.  They didn’t.  That was sold separately.  I should’ve gotten the aerosol can in all three colors (the aerosol can came with 4 different tips included.  I guess you do get what you pay for).  I imagined making the blue square in the upper left hand corner, then putting little white stars on it.  Then, I thought I’d make waves of red and white frosting for the rest of the flag.  Well, you know what they say about the best laid plans…

The blue frosting wouldn’t come out of the package!  Easy squeeze my ass!  I was using all of my muscle in both of my hands just to get the stuff out.  At one point I thought I was going to have to go to the store and buy the aerosol can of frosting, but then I told myself that I’d already spent way too much on this dumb dessert and tried to make it work.  I finally got the blue out.  Then I started on the red, giving as much force as I could – well, wouldn’t you know that the red came flying out?  In big red globs.  You would’ve thought someone was bleeding to death, from the looks of things around my kitchen.  Sigh.  Luckily, the aerosol can worked beautifully, and I used two different tips to decorate the stars and then the stripes.

With the creative use of a butter knife, I was able to salvage the look of the flag, but man, I am NEVER making this damn thing again in life.  There is a reason that I stick to savory cooking – I’m good at it.  Baking isn’t really my thing, and while I do make good cupcakes for my classes from time to time, anything that requires any level of real cake decorating skills just isn’t my thing.  Plus, I should’ve stayed away from any sort of recipe that would be featured in a middle America bake sale – Suzy Homemaker I’m not.

Anyway, here’s the finished product.  The camera wasn’t able to capture all of the mistakes.  Let’s just say that I hope it tastes better than it looks:


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Isn’t that how the saying goes?

Regular readers of this blog know how long I’ve been looking forward to my trip to Boston. It’s been my inspiration for losing weight. I’ve been thinking about going back east for over a year. And now the day is almost here.

Originally, CBCB and I were supposed to fly out of my city on Sunday night, arriving in Boston on Monday morning at 11am, their time. About two weeks ago I checked my e-tinerary from Jet Blue and realized that my ticket was for Monday night, not Sunday. What? That meant I was losing a whole day in Boston! This simply would not do. I went into a tizzy and started calling the airline to see how much it would cost to leave on Sunday instead of Monday – $130 because the flight was more expensive and there was a processing fee. Too much money to spend for one more day, even if it was in my beloved Boston. (Is it strange to love a city you’ve never been to? I guess I’m anticipating loving it because of everything I’ve heard about it and all the people from Boston that I know who adore it).

So, I resigned myself to the fact that I wasn’t leaving until Monday night. Good, it gives me more time to clean the house (I hate coming back from a vacation to a messy place), take my time packing, and get all those last minute errands done. CBCB called the hotel and canceled our room for Monday night, since we wouldn’t be arriving until Tuesday morning. All set.

Last night I got a call from CBCB, who read me her e-tinerary, which said that she was leaving on Aug. 3rd. What? I re-opened my email, and told her that mine said Aug. 4. What was going on? She said she’d call the airline and let me know.

Apparently, when she booked our flights, she used a credit for her ticket. She booked hers for the 3rd, and then had to go back online to book, mine, which she booked for the 4th, accidentally. When she called to see how much it would cost to change her flight to Monday night so we could be together, it was $300 – ridiculous!!

So, she’s going to fly out tonight (I’m taking her to the airport) and she’s going to stay with a cousin of hers who lives minutes away from Copely Square, where we booked our hotel. I’m going to fly out on Monday night and meet her and BeachGirl in Boston on Tuesday morning, as planned.

Is it perfect? No. It would’ve been fun to be on the plane with CBCB and talk about our upcoming trip, etc.etc. Also, I’ve never flown across the country by myself, but I’m a self-sufficient woman who should have no problem doing that.

Looking on the bright side of the situation, now I can have some uninterrupted time to myself while I’m making my way across the country. I’m used to living alone, after all, and the next 10 days are going to be filled with other people living in close quarters with me. Which is fun, and wonderful, and all of that, but it might not be the worst thing to have some time to myself at the beginning of the trip. Plus, what choice do I have? This is the way things are.

In years past I probably would’ve been really upset about these changes, and let it get to me. Not anymore. I’m coming to realize that you have to accept things as they happen if you cannot change them. I’ve always been a positive person, but more and more I’m really trying to focus on the positive in what could be perceived as a negative situation. It’s healthier, keeps me happier, and makes life a little easier.

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Today was my neighbor NC’s wedding. She and her fiance are two of the best people you could ever want for neighbors, and I was really flattered that she had invited me to celebrate this special occasion with her.

Because of the fasting, and the fact that I wouldn’t have known anyone there, I told her that I’d love to go to the wedding, but that I didn’t think I’d go to the reception. Plus, I told her, she wouldn’t have to pay for a dinner for me. She said she was perfectly fine with that.

I was really looking forward to seeing her and J get married. I knew she was going to be a beautiful bride, and that the ceremony was going to be special.

So after running lots of errands today, I finally started getting ready for the wedding. I was wearing my fun party dress that I wore for the Sex & The City party, had my hair in a fun half-up/half-down updo, and was feeling pretty despite the 99 degree temperature outside.

I drove to the church and arrived at the parking lot at 4:42pm. The wedding started at 5pm, and I was completely confused when I didn’t see another car in the lot. What was going on? Why weren’t her friends and family here yet? What the heck? I know she told me it started at 5pm, and I knew I was at the right church, so where was everyone?

I called AM because her sister CJ was in the wedding. I knew that AM or CJ would be able to tell me if I somehow got the time wrong. Maybe it started at 6pm, but I was almost positive it was 5pm.

I got on the phone with AM and told her the situation, saying that I was wondering where everyone was. She stopped me mid sentence and said, “Bella, Bella wait. The wedding was YESTERDAY!” What?! On a Friday? Oh shit, I had missed it. And then it hit me, the memory of NC telling me that they booked it on a Friday because it was going to be less expensive to have the reception on an “off” day. Dammit!

Here I was all dolled up and no where to go. And not only that, but I had missed their wedding. What a terrible neighbor. I’m sure she didn’t miss me at the wedding, but I’m also sure she wondered what happened to me.

I quickly called and left a message on her cell phone telling her how terribly sorry I was for my stupidity, and hoping that they were having an amazing time on their honeymoon.

Only to me, I tell you.

I definitely didn’t feel like the brightest crayon in the box today. Ugh.  Hopefully my adorable wedding present will make up for it.

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When people have had a near-death experience, many of them talk about seeing a light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. No, I’m not near death, but after this weekend’s frenzy of getting my grad school portfolio together, I may be close.

I have gone through my entire program keeping careful track of all of my assignments, reflections, and the major aspects of my action research project. Everything is subdivided into organized folders on my computer. Organizing and collating this portfolio should’ve been a breeze, right? Not so much, unfortunately.

You see, for as neat and organized as I am with the electronic files on my computer, I am a mess at keeping all of the hard copies of my evidence, essays, reflections, and student samples in some sort of order. To be honest, I knew I had everything, the problem was: where? Looking back, I wish I had just dumped everything into a box in my room that I could sort through quickly. If only I had thought ahead.

As it was, I had papers in all sorts of places — in my binders, in my school bags, in my desk at school, and even in a box in the basement of my house. Ugh. Every time I looked for something that I needed I almost gave up hope, but then, miraculously, it would turn up.

Yesterday I spent a majority of the day organizing, compiling, collating, and writing. I worked from 11am-2pm. Then I went to CBCB’s house for a couple of hours to see her vacation photos from Greece (lucky bum). I came home and worked some more, but finally hit a wall at 6pm and decided to veg out in front of the t.v. for a little while. I think I fell asleep somewhere around 8:30pm and didn’t wake up until 10:30pm, when the phone rang. One of my grad school buddies was calling to check on how something was supposed to be organized. Good thing! The call was exactly what I needed to get my second wind. I worked from 11pm-5am. Yes, 5 am in the morning! Into the wee hours of the night. I finally went to sleep this morning at 5am and woke up at 10am. Then it was back to work, from 11-noon. A quick stop to my parents’ house to pick up a hole punch turned into two hours of me driving all the way to school to get my more industrial strength hole punch from my classroom. I got back home at 2:30 and was raring to go. I was printing fiend…until I ran out of paper.

HOW COULD I RUN OUT OF PAPER AT A TIME LIKE THIS? Didn’t I get that ream of paper I had at school? Where is it, it’s got to be here somewhere. Nope, I left it at school. Aaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!

Stressed out and panicked, I called BFF to see if she had any paper I could borrow. She had just returned from a women’s wellness weekend, and was as relaxed and calm as I was stressed and out of my mind. I was talking a mile a minute, and she was answering back in a slow, lilting voice. Talking to her actually showed me how tightly wound I was all weekend.

Paper in hand, I started back to work. Printing, stapling, and hole-punching. Getting everything in just the right spot in the binder.

And finally, I had done everything except finish my leadership growth essay. Nothing more to focus on as a way of procrastination. The majority of the paper had been written in February, so all I really had to do was edit a few things, add in some evidence, and write the conclusion. Which I did. I wrote a metaphor about a path, a journey, and how no one wants to follow a leader who doesn’t know where she’s going. It is actually very good, although after reading it, I wasn’t completely satisfied. I think that at this point I am way too close to it, not to mention a bit sleep deprived. I’ll look at it again later tonight and see I can perfect it any further.

But that’s not the point. The point is that I can see a small light at the end of the tunnel. May 12 is nearing closer, and soon I will be DONE. For now I’m done (lower case, since there’s still another paper to turn in next week), and I couldn’t be happier. It wasn’t easy, but this huge portion of my grad school coursework is now totally and completely and wonderfully done!!!!

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