I wrote the paper and slipped it under the professor's virtual door with eight minutes to spare. I don't like it when I cut things this close, and by procrastinating as long as I did I do not think I spent enough time on the editing part. The paper was too long, a bit rambling, but I was out of time to do anything about it. I learned nothing from this.
According to my test results I am super high on the empathy and emotional self-awareness scales, and disappointingly below average with regard to systematic problem-solving skills and adaptability. I wasn't surprised by either of these bits of information but I don't really understand how my strengths are actually "intelligences" because both seem to me somewhat useless. The fact I can understand how you feel, or tell you how I feel... well... so what? It would be a lot more useful, in my opinion, to have systematic problem-solving and adaptability skills. According to my test results I attach a lot of importance to how people feel when making decisions rather than to logic or forethought about potential consequences. I knew this. Because I am emotionally self-aware, you see. I could have just handed in this paragraph instead of writing sixteen pages; the meat of it is still the same.
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I had a nice conversation with my neighbour yesterday. It was one of those on-the-front-lawn with hedge clippers in hand kind of conversations that happens when you are sociable, which generally I am not but I really like my neighbour. He is so good to his dogs. And he seems to like mowing as much as I do.
For the longest time he thought my name was Ophelia. I think that Shawn might have introduced the dog to him and he assumed her name was mine. (I know the name is ridiculous for a dog but we did not name her.) Something happened to mix him up and I didn't fix it because the first time he called me Ophelia I was actually caught in an Ophelia-like moment, digging holes in the dirt and dropping flower bulbs inside, mesmerized by the whole idea of these ugly twisty things turning into daffodils and tulips. So when he said Hello Ophelia, I didn't answer for too long, and then answered in a rush to make up for the strange long pause, and in my hurry I neglected to mention that my name is not Ophelia. And he called me Ophelia for awhile after that. I felt too silly to correct him since I had answered to it the first time. But he's gotten it straight now somehow since then. Yesterday he called me by the right name.
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Two of the pups went to the vet yesterday to have their teeth cleaned. I don't like having to leave the dogs at the vet's office because they get upset and I feel guilty about leaving. And I feel scared something bad will happen to them while I am gone and I won't see them again. Tooth cleaning is a bit of an ordeal for dogs. They need to be anesthetized because they won't cooperate. But they're okay now.
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I need to renew J's passport and I am concerned that the passport office is going to give us a hard time because her mother won't be able to sign the papers. Though we are her legal guardians our rights are limited to some degree until we complete a formal adoption. Which we will.
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3 comments:
You have a lot to deal with right now, and deserve a lot of credit for doing it as well as you do. I think that shows a great deal of adaptive ability because much of your situation is in the nature of "shit happens."
Ophelia is a great name for a dog! I once made the mistake of naming a cat "Anathema" because it sounds so flowery if you don't know what it means. She was the worst cat ever, refused to use a litter box, unfriendly, bulemic, hissed at everyone. She finally took off with the deer who frequented our back yard, like a child running away to join the circus.
Finally, (because I am verbose) I always adored mowing the lawn when we had a house. it was very zen riding my tractor and watching the cut rows take shape, and best of all, no one could talk to me. (I'm sociable like that.)
That is exactly why I like to mow, at least one of the reasons. It's very isolating, in a good way. Anathema is a hilarious name for a cat... must have been a self-fulfilling prophecy. It does sound pretty though. My niece's cat is Marley, as in "Marley was dead, to begin with". My sister used to claim it was Marley as in Bob rather than Jacob but that is not how I remember it. I wonder if Anathema was happier with her new forest friends...
I think she was. My backyard was a regular stop on their migrations, and I occasionally spotted her among her new family of deer. It was charming like a Disney animated movie.
Her name definitely was a self-fulfilling prophesy. I learned my lesson. My then-husband said, "What did you expect when you named a cat 'Anathema?'" It's true -- cats need all the help they can get.
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