Are you kidding? Every damn day of my whole damn life. Oh. You just meant today. Here is what I was supposed to accomplish today:
- Go "observe" the cheerleaders. I finally broke through the web of crack security that surrounds the university cheerleading coach. She graciously granted me her explicit permission to observe . . . the games. Thank you. That separates me from every other human being with nothing else to do on a Saturday afternoon who also happens to have a student ID or six bucks, how, exactly? Because before you gave me your explicit permission, I could have gained access to the um, public gymnasium, but I was not permitted to look at the cheerleaders? Wow, I guess I owe you big time. Did I mention today's game was also broadcast on ESPN? Thank you for letting me sit in my own living room and watch my own television with the cable that I (okay, my husband) paid for. What a treat. This is better than Christmas. I did not go to the game. What, exactly, would this have accomplished in the world of qualitative research? I'm not sure, which is why I chose to stay home. This will be further addressed in a later post called, "Why I Hate to Make Shit Up for Major Papers."
- Grade 50 midterms. I got through 3. There is something so disheartening about seeing the words "pee-hole" where "urethral opening" should be written that it just kind of zaps you of all your enthusiasm. Because really. If you can't get enthusiastic about grading 50 human sexuality midterms, there is no hope for you.
- Apply for a summer job. I have been toying with the idea of working at the local scrapbook store. I figure with one master's degree and some doc-level coursework under my belt I just might be qualified. I didn't go there today. I love to scrapbook, but the irony is not lost on me. Until my brother "gave" (it was a gift, right?) me his old digital camera, I did not own one. I don't have kids. I don't go on fabulous vacations (the cruise was a fluke, and of course, I saved every piece of paper anyone handed me and I scrapbooked the hell out of that thing). I am not in weddings. I don't throw lavish parties. I'm not building a house. I don't have kids. Wait. I said that already. But really. Once you're married, isn't most scrapbooking about paying homage to your little wee ones? For the most part, my life consists of very "unscrapbook-worthy" events. But I do so love to play with adhesives, stickers and construction paper. It's very therapeutic. In fact, I enjoy it so much that one summer I took my best friend's pictures of her kids and made a scrapbook for them. Sad, so sad. I know this. But I digress. I did not go to the scrapbook store today.
- Make a "visual model" for my public health practice class that effectively combined the public health responsibilities, functions and services. This I did. It took me far too long and I have a distinct feeling it will be meaningless to anyone but me, but oh, is it pretty!
- Laundry? Or something? I can't remember.