The art of bargaining

Right now I am deep in essay writing territory.  For the last few weeks of semester I've been tallying the amount of words I need to write, the huge number that tells where I am at greater than saying 5 assignments.....four assignments....

More like 6500 words...5500 words....

At one point I was convinced I was going to have to ask for an extension on at least one essay.  I had two weeks and 6500 words to go.  With research.  Not possible.

More recalculating.  Then I figured it out.  I could do this.  I had plenty of time.  Then Boom!  Bam! Two assignments down, 2500 words spent, two essays to go at 3000 words total.  I've got this!

And then the research.  Then writing.  I told myself - 400 words a day, that's a great amount, leaves me plenty of time to polish and edit.  First day I wrote 300ish. 

So began the bargaining.  If I do this today, then tomorrow....still plenty of time...no time...calm down, plenty of time....

Of course what has actually happened is I spend so much time thinking about what I need to do, i.e. the number of words I need to write down, it blocks my concentration, making the research not sink in.  Cue more bargaining.

But I still have enough time.  6 days.  Two assignments.  2000 words.  We can do this, brain.  Calm down.

Labels

Labels. We sure like labels. You know what I mean? What we call ourselves and each other. I am a wife, a mother,  a student and a bucket load of other things. I am all of them, yet I am none of them. Why? Because they are just words, and words may label me but they don't define me. There aren't enough words and phrases to just sum me up in a nice neat little package. 

There is an amount of weight behind these labels, a value that we place on them. Being a mother is one thing, then there are stay at home mums and working mums. Each of these things has a different weight. They are valued differently depending on who you are talking to, the situation you are in. 

Why do we label?  In a way it helps us organise our little world, and that's not always a bad thing. It becomes a bad thing when we value labels differently, or less than we should. You're a stay at home mum? Don't you care about yourself/house/family enough to work? You're a working mum? Don't you car about you family/kids/house enough and stay at home to do everything?

See what I mean?

In the end the label doesn't really matter. We are all of the labels and none of the labels. Not words but people, and all of it counts.

All worked up

I've been feeling pretty worked up over the last week- I have essay deadlines looming and a brain that didn't really want to be productive. 

The bare minimum got me through without feeling like I'd done nothing, but left me feeling uneasy. So I calculated. I figured out an estimation of time for each essay, how many days left minus my lectures and I felt better. 

That was until I didn't. Feel better that is- I woke up two days ago with a cold. Gah! Amazingly day one and two were quite productive thanks to the reading is done last week (maybe it wasn't really bare minimum after all?) but today has been a big fat wipeout. No work was done due to feeling really crappy. 

So no the pressure is really on, but it leaves me with the question- which is better for my mental well being? 1) letting myself be sick in order to recuperate quicker, then work my fingers to the bone and my brain to breaking point to get an A. 2) work while sick so I don't feel 'behind' 3) be sick, and get what I can done, and if the mark is less than usual accept it and move on. 

I have no idea, but it is what it is- I like to get good marks...but...well I'll be okay either way, won't I?!

Wait, no overthinking?

Well, I'll be! I actually had a full weekend of no overthinking, I trust myself, I can do stuff thinking!

The liberation!

I spent the weekend at the Bendigo  Writers Festival, an amazing weekend of learning from talented successful people. And would you believe that I felt at home? Huh!

I am still buzzing from the advice, excitement, the learning and ideas. I felt like I had tapped into this piece of myself that I had forgotten was there.  I know it was always there because I recognised it like an old friend when I saw and felt it.

I had a number of moments of clarity, and an idea that formed. This idea is like the seed of a tree, only I don't know how large this tree will grow. I do know that the seed has been there for many years, and now the conditions are just right and it has germinated. In fact I can actually see it growing, poking up through the organic earth.  This seed wants to grow and grow, and I need to feed it. 

I can't wait to watch my tree grow, to see its beautiful form, it's textures and the sounds it makes, to see how large it grows, what the canopy looks like, whether it will have dappled light come through it, or be open to allow the full blazing sun.

My idea is already more than an idea, it is a being. It is. 

Photo: Sarah Fallon

When opportunity knocks...

That is the time for me to go into overdrive on the overthinking meltdowns.  Recently I was given the opportunity to get ahead in writing for a subject, which would be used by a festival for promotion on blogs and the like.  Exciting.  So off I went to arrange interviews for this writing.. And they all fell through.  I was a little frustrated, thinking that my opportunity to write, and contribute, was lost.

Then, the call came through, they've been busy, but they still want me, so hey girl, come to a meeting meet ALL the people, write an article.  For the local paper.  What an opportunity!  Write a real life article for real life print.  That people actually read.  This was even better than the original plan.  Sometimes things just work out, right?

So of course, the initial excitement wears off and I am left with the feelings.  Of doubt, of fear, of total freaking out.   Oh seriously, I have some stupid issues.  Don't get me wrong, I am grateful and still excited about this opportunity.  I will channel all these feelings, front up to this meeting and take it all in, and attempt to write the hell out of this article.  If people are going to be really seeing this little baby in their hands then I need to step up.  After all, how often does this kind of opportunity just fall into your lap?  People work their bums off for years to get published.

I'll let you know how I go, no doubt there is some more overthinking to be done twixt now and then, in the meantime this is my blog for the Bendigo Writers Festival that all this fuss is about, so check that out too. 

Falling into place

If there is one big lesson I have learnt as I age is that sometimes the pieces just fall into place. And sometimes your place changes, which is okay too. I am talking of that moment when you realise the here and now is exactly where you need to be, everything feels just right. I am experiencing that now and it feels fantastic. I love how, even though the here and now still has challenges, it still feels like it's right. 

I have been in the place where nothing seems to go as planned and there is a lingering feeling of...off kilter is probably the best way to describe it. That's the point where we make changes, make those decisions that have been sitting there in the back of your mind, in wait for bravery. For the pieces to fit. 

Sometimes it still doesn't work out, that's okay. I have a saying that you always make the right decision at the time. After all it often leads to the next big change, a decision made that leads to the puzzle working again. 

So if it doesn't feel right take a chance, make those scary decisions and you never know, things just may perfectly fall into place. 

Oh the...haven't we been here before?

Here we go again. Caught myself at it again yesterday. It would seem I cannot help myself.  The overthinking! I received a mark back yesterday for an essay, and it was good.  An A, and I got some fabulous comments back.  "Your critical perspective...has created an excellent essay.  I really enjoyed your piece" amongst other smile inducing comments. I loved it. So what's the problem? It's a 'first world, A grade student' problem. Honestly I felt that the mark didn't reflect the comments. I wanted a higher A. 

What is wrong with me?  I, of course, analysed this all evening, debating on whether I should have it looked at, to chase those couple of extra points...  I had to ask myself "does this, will this, really even matter?"  Well of course no. And yes. It doesn't matter, I have the A, and that's what will show, not the numbers, so it really is enough. I can't help wanting those extra points- I know that I wrote an excellent essay, and I knew that I would get an A as I handed it in, it felt right.

Lightbulb moment.  There it was.  I have gained confidence, belief in myself.  I can write! Better still I can darn well recognise when my work is good, and not so good.  If I take nothing else from this bout, it is that recognition.  I wrote an excellent essay and knew it.  Huh, sounds weird, but going into second year knowing this can only help my writing. And that's worth an imaginary A too.

Procrasti-writing

I read this term this week and it sums up exactly what I do with this blog.  Writing something 'fun' instead of what you are meant to be writing.  I really do wish that I had coined that term, it's a good one!

This morning I had decided to let this blog go - it has served its purpose, there was no need to continue.  Fast forward to this afternoon, and I catch myself in major overthinking mode - and here we are procrasti-writing.

I am writing a "feature article" after interviewing a talented local journalist and author.  I enjoyed talking to her and I feel that I got some great material during the interview, too much really.  Over the last couple of days I have laboured over this article, getting up to the word count today.  In its rough first draft form I shoot it of to my trusty proof readers to see if I am on the right track... Gah!  No angle is the stern reply!  And they are totally right - they put their finger on exactly what I was struggling with.

So here I am reading over what I have written, and what I have to draw from, trying to finalise my angle.  And instead of just getting on with it I am beating myself up with thoughts like "What was I thinking?"  "I can't write" "FOOL!"  Gah!  The overthinking!!

Is this the end?

Well, that's it last class done, the blogging assessment in. So here I have been contemplating what to do with this blog now. Continue? Finish it? It was for a purpose and that is done with. I have enjoyed it though, and I think it's helping with developing a writing style (for this blog at least).

 So what if no one reads it? Well that's not exactly right, because I think I do want people to check in and read a piece of me. Maybe someone will stumble across my little mutterings and musings as a mature age uni student, and find a little relief, or a moment of recognition in their own overthinking process. 

And with any luck I will actually stop overthinking, and move on to those witty blogs I was going on about!

Writing exercise - Speech

In the words of Rick Astley – Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down.  Why these words?  Because as first year students we so often are faced with fight or flight.  We are pushed and pulled in so many directions that giving up can seem like the best thing to do.  As a mature age student I don’t only have the pressures from uni, but there’s also the demands of my home life.  Sometimes I want to give up because there are not enough hours in the day.  Sometimes I want to give up because I have 3 x 1500 word essays due in one week, and there is dog hair on the floor, and dishes on the bench, and meals to cook, and lectures to go to.  There ARE things that keep me going though.  I go to my lectures to hear opinions that I may otherwise not be exposed to.  I do my essays, because I have to, but hey, I learn something along the way.  And as for the “at home” side of life - well we, my family, just lower our standards of cleanliness for the 3 months of semester.  Because you know what – each semester is such a short period of time that comes and goes so quickly.  At the end of each of those three months I have learnt something new, and it gives me hope for the future, each subject giving me a new skill or two to add to “future me”, and our “future family”.  It’s for all of us that I never give up, because they are never gonna give up on me.

Week 11 - writing for video

Creative concept:

Video against procrastination – images showing clutter versus clarity, showing typical modern distracting tools when studying, moving to a model student then enjoying life after completing work.  Soundtrack is Procrastination, by Alex Lewis.  The key message is: don’t procrastinate, life is better when you concentrate on tasks at hand rather than allowing distractions like social media and catching up with friends to get in the way – all of these things will be waiting to enjoy once the task is completed.  The slogan is Don’t get distracted – Just act.

Narration Deadlines looming, yet you are still letting yourself get distracted?   It is easy, isn't it, with it all there at your fingertips.   Social media - you are posting about how much study you need to do, instead of doing it   Pinning anti procrastination memes?   Can't say no to coffee dates?   Leisurely lunches with your girlfriends?   How many times have you washed your hair this week?       Don't do it - Just do it   Finish that essay, life will still be there, better than before   Don't exchange one screen for another, you can eat at your desk, your hair is clean enough       Don't get distracted - just act

Visuals Person sitting at desk overflowing with books etc., looking flustered    Facebook    Instagram    Pinterest    Twitter   Coffee    Restaurant scene    Steamy shower    Clock Ticking (all fast images, rotating)   Computer screen, books Sunny skies, happy people, cycling, playing Frisbee, walking dog   Person shutting phone off/putting away   Sitting at desk looking smart Participating in one of the fun activities Don't get distracted - just act (Slower pace) (fade out all except act)

A reflection

Near the end of semester and I can honestly and delightfully say that my class on writing has changed me. It has changed not only how I write, but how I look at writing.  I'm not going to say that I find the process always simple now (there is still all the overthinking after all), but I certainly find it easier and clearer than it was.  The editing process - ruthless.  If nothing else I have become at least better at writing, and the process of editing, than I began.  It has helped, not only in this class, but others, and in my communication in general.  And my confidence!

I am so surprised at myself, for the ease in which I now post, and for actually enjoying this.  There is a part of me that kind of doesn't want to stop.  There is something liberating about this blog, in writing down what I am doing and thinking, in making links from classes to life, having a tongue in cheek laugh at myself, and allowing some seriousness too.  Of course I don't have a wide audience beyond my class following...Oh well, I really have enjoyed it.

Perhaps I have enjoyed it too much.  I have blogged a lot, so many posts.  Which is fine, except I now have to choose my 'best' work for assessment.  There are so many that I am not sure where to start.  Some I can cross off the list fairly easily, they were a bit of fun, not meant to be examples of good writing.  So I have been browsing through, trying to fit criteria, or a formula for the 'best' posts. 

It is fitting at this point to admit that I am totally overthinking this process, doubting that any even fit the criteria.  Trying to predict which my lovely lecturer (suck, suck, lol) will like.  I have picked two at least (I think?).  I will get there.  I am overthinking a little less too....

A confession

Hi, my name is Sarah and I like to write BUT I do not like people to read and judge my writing. What a sensitive Sally. Writing this blog has helped this tremendously. What made me so nervous writing the first blog doesn't bother me quite so much now. And I'm working on sharing my other writing too, letting go enough to let others 'proof read' for me. This is because if writing becomes a serious vocation for me there is absolutely no value to being scared of putting it all out there.

I'm finding that in a weird twisted way it's like having a baby. A writing baby if you will. Once you've been in hospital giving birth and you've had a conveyer belt of staff looking at your nether regions you almost get to the point of "who's looking at my bits today? Have you seen them yet? Let's have a look then". Getting (letting) people to read my work has been a bit like that.

My bravest moment was getting my closest non uni friend to read my work. I was so scared, I put it off for weeks- then I ripped of the bandaid and asked her to take a look. "Read this for a laugh" I said jokingly, but I secretly wanted her to like it at least a little bit. And she's features in some posts as well, which made it more nerve wracking. Thank god she was nice about it ;)

So, I am hoping to turn this into "Hi, I'm Sarah.  Would you like to see what I am working on right now?"

Little snippets

Back in my last life (read pre-uni) I was a dental nurse. I was at a surgery that now seems quite old school. We did things in an old fashioned way. A large part of my chair side job was bringing patients into the room, setting them up in the chair, and chatting with them until the dentist came in. When I first started I thought the reason I was tasked with this was so my boss could make a grand entrance. Over time I discovered what I actually was doing was building a rapport with the patient, forming a relationship with them. It was such a valuable tool, I was able to learn things that they may not mention to the dentist (although he was very good at doing this). It gave me a tool for excellent communication. I was able to translate dentist speak, tailoring it to the patient so they could understand, and also communicate back to the dentist their needs. It also helped me advocate for the patient when I felt they needed it

The upcoming interview I have with a strategic communicator has me revisiting this time at the moment. I have spent a lot of time thinking about some of the amazing and at times heart breaking stories I would be so privileged to hear sitting next to that chair. You see we didn't just talk dental talk. We formed real relationships where nothing was off limits. I was able to hear little snippets into peoples lives that you don't ordinarily get to hear about, from a diverse group of people. I learnt of families ups and downs, of life in the boardroom, wonderful travel stories, some heartbreaking wartime stories. What a privilege. I remember thinking at the time that I would always love to hear more, and that I would love to write them down. 

I am a little nervous about interviewing someone formally, but I am trying to remember that actually I have done this thousands of times before, and to toot my own horn (which I rarely do) I am good at this. (Thanks TC for giving me this amazing gift of learning to really listen to people). 

I hope I can do my interviewees little snippets justice, and I am really looking forward to listening to them. 

It's all about perspective

My first sociology class last semester contained this statement so much I thought I might scream.  Perspective!  How we look at things depends on where we stand.  Righto then.

It is true though, how we look at others, at ourselves, at situations all depends on what side of the fence we are on, how we have seen things in the past.  Perspective can be difficult to keep in check too.  I mean that sometimes we are so clouded by our own perspective that we don't look at it from others.  It seems like a pretty normal thing to do, after all we have all done it at one time or another.  It can be detrimental to only look at things one sided, and although I often forget this I was reminded of this fact this week.

Thanks to those who have reminded me in many different ways to keep looking, to keep things in perspective, but to remember there are others.

So my tip for this week is to take a step back, get a wider view, you might be surprised by what you see. 

Friends have special privileges

Now don't get carried away- not those privileges! I'm talking of the special rights that comes with friendship. Friends get to say things that would be inappropriate or not okay for most people to say. They get to tell you when to pull your head in without reprimand, to tell you your dress looks hideous or you didn't blend your foundation that's probably the wrong shade anyway. In return you can tell them they overstepped the line with that comment, and laugh and cry on their shoulders when the need arises.  Friendship is a special place.

I don't think I am always good at friendships- sometimes I am not sure what kind of friends we are, not sure whether I can call us close friends or whether it should be just acquaintances, and as a result I tend to stand back and wait for the other person to make the moves. 

Friendships are very much like romantic relationships, without all the romantic bits. You meet with someone, and sometimes it's bam! A connection. Or it could be a slow getting to know you. However it works a friendship is a thing that develops and changes over time, hopefully for the better. Like relationships though, sometimes things don't always work out, sometimes you 'break up'. 

 I went through a stage a couple of years ago where I had break ups with friends. It just wasn't working anymore, (it's not you it's me? Vice versa?) and we broke up. One was an explosive breakup. One just a fade out, but in the end those relationships had run their course.

I have some amazing friends to be grateful for though.  Some have been in my life for many many years. Those friends that are like old slippers. We may go long periods without seeing each other, or have times where we see each other everyday, but it is never hard work.  Some are new, our relationships still solidifying, but I can see they are going to be in my life for a long time, because they tick the boxes.

And they have the privileges of above, but mostly I think I have the best part- I have the privilege of have some amazing strong women (and some men) as friends.

Oh, I've changed

I have changed.  One of my majors that is.  It was a little confronting, but really not surprising.  I came into uni with the goal of self improvement and upskilling but without any parametres.  That is I had no clear idea of what I really wanted out of it, where I expected to go, what I wanted to do "When I grew up".  I rationalised this by thinking that I was being flexible, because life happens, and having a rigid idea of a career would not serve me well.  I thought that I would maybe apply for public service roles, in a graduate generalist program perhaps.  Not very exciting, or perhaps even realistic.  I needed some more focus.

I have always envied people who have it all together, with a well defined idea of where they want to go in life.  On the flip side, I feel sorry for those people when they don't have flexibility in those thoughts, or are so narrowly focused that they miss out on other opportunites.  Still, I envy that they know what they are doing and how to go about it.  I think fear in part is what holds me back from thinking this way.  Fear of rejection, or not living up to expectations - my own or others.

Anyway, I applied with uni with this flexible idea, and basically chose my major by most interesting subjects.  Sometmimes I would have a giggle to myself that perhaps it was an odd choice of major, a little left of field for my personality.  Those thoughts started to  occupy my headspace- and when I really considered a narrow focus into that field,  I realised that it might not be the best fit.  Not a bad or wrong fit, just not the best.  I am still interested in learning about those subjects, but I don't think that as a career it would be the most successful one.

So here I am.  I have changed.  I am still thinking flexibly, but I have definately got more focus.  I think this is a better fit, and I am already thinking of ways I can make this work - places and people I can go to gain experience, mentoring and the like.

I have changed, and I am excited.

It has come to my attention....

.....That I get very fired up.  About little things.  About big things.  About nothing things sometimes.  I like to call it passion.  I like to debate -  I like to have opinions and views that are a little different, it gives us something to talk about.

Maybe I get too fired up sometimes though, and I will concede that at times I do come on a bit strong.  You know what though - call me out, have a debate, you never know what interesting conversations can develop from a good discussion!

I don't view myself as been in your face passionate about things either, and I am able to keep opinions to myself where it is inappropriate to voice them.  I even try to 'keep a lid on' things, to be not too over the top.

 I just don't see it as a bad thing, and after all a little passion is exciting, right?

More strange numbers.....

I loved that I have come across these memes. This means that I am not so weird -  that I am the only person with this quirk.  This is a true story- I cannot handle having the volume at an uneven number. I dislike it so much that I cannot concentrate on the radio/TV program being broadcast. It is a silly habit, but I really can't control it. I am totally OCD when it comes to volume control! This  blog

 recounts my issues with numbers, and it's a great read.  Thanks Willa for making me sound almost normal!   As an aside, there are also Facebook pages dedicated to this - does this make it more or less normal?

On gender bias

My world was flipped upside down this week.  Maybe that's a little over the top, but I am pretty angry about this.  I haven't really seen myself as a feminist, (certainly not in an extreme bra burning way) but I do hold hopes for equality.  In fact I thought that we were actually doing really quite well in that area as I never felt terribly discriminated against based on being female.  I have never been an "activist" shouting from the rooftops how 'man' has suppressed me.  Then again there are a few little things - the first shared bank account with my now hubby I insisted that they changed they account title with my name first - I was disappointed that it is immediately the mans name that goes first.

That was around 15 years ago.  It seems that this type of discrimination is still rife.  I made a request to a private school for enrolment information with an online form.  My name at the top of the form (as is correct seeing I was the one filling out the form).  I put my hubby's name on form when requested - he after all is a part of all this.  No problem there.  Until I received the information pack.  Addressed to us both (no problem there) with hubby's initial first.  Uh oh.  Problem.  Not okay - in my opinion as I was the one to fill out the form I should have prime status on the address line.  Yes, it kind of is a small issue, but it bugs me all the same.  Anyway, I open the pack, and to my disbelief I am not mentioned at all....It is addressed only to hubby.  Wait, what? 

 I am so disappointed.  It may seem that I am making a big issue and getting angry over a minor thing, and certainly responses to my Facebook post on this issue reflects that.  My issue is if our very language in the male/female arena is flawed, if this is how we are teaching our boys to refer to women, our girls to believe they are inferior then the battle still has so far to go.

Essayitis

Essayitis. 

It's a real thing, and I am sure many uni students would agree here.  It starts somewhere around half way through the semester when the largish assignments all start to come rolling in.  And of course the due dates are usually all grouped around one another.  Symptoms:  over analysing essay questions; over reading source texts for a golden quote; stop-start writing.  May result in procrastination; headaches; denial of said essays.  Cure?  End of semester seems to be the only cure, although actual completion and handing in of assignments does alleviate symptoms.

Perhaps there is a little of dramatisation here, but that's all part of essayitis.

Well, I am approximately 500 words down today, only another thousand to go.  Then edit.  Rinse.  Repeat.

Is that a light I see at the end of the tunnel?

Solidarity, Sistas

Inner peace...Mine was disturbed a number of times over the last week.  It is quite amazing how someone else, or a particular situation can rock you to the very core of who you are, making you question decisions made and putting dents into self confidence. It is equally amazing how we can support someone and give great advice yet not follow that same advice yourself.  This last couple of weeks has had times of rocking (not rocking out unfortunately). 

 

After my disastrous group presentation I was feeling so discouraged, and this was only compounded when one of my 'classmates' added to my humiliation by pointing out to those who were not there that I did a terrible job.  Thanks, mate [insert red face and sweaty palms there!]  I wasn't the only one to have my inner peace disturbed.  I'm lucky to have a lovely bunch of 'sistas' in one of my classes, and in this 'safe place' we traded stories of how we were feeling discouraged.  I told how I was feeling like maybe I had made a not so good decision to study again, then listened to one 'sista', hearing how she didn't have the confidence in her own abilities that I admire so much.  So, as I was talking to my 'sistas' it was comforting to know that I am not the only one who feels discouraged.  We, all of us, at times feel inadequate, not good enough for this uni caper, or perhaps even other aspects of our lives.  I had a moment of 'Solidarity 'sistas', we are the same'! 

 

Then once I thought about it a bit more, however, this moment made me feel a little sad.  Not because we could find solace in shared feelings, but that we fall back to these feelings in the first place.  And that so often it is because somebody else taps into our own negative feelings and brings them to the surface.  I'm also referring to those times where we are self effacing, those "no I really didn't deserve that good mark/compliment/whatever'. 

 

What is going on ladies (and I say ladies as I do not usually see these kinds of attitudes or responses in the blokes)?  What makes us behave this way?  It could be a gender role that we have taken on, and certainly the studying sociologist in me wants to at least partly attribute it to that.  It could be that we succumb to these things for any number of reasons.

 

I don't really have the answer at the moment, but what I do know is that we need to bolster each other up at these moments, so that when something does happen (like somebody else causing us to question our own abilities)  we can say "I have your back 'sista"'.

Oh, the procrastinating

What is it about writing that can set you off on random tangents just to put it off?  Today I have read in preparation of an essay, I have started the essay, hated what I wrote, hung the washing, started reading again, wrote some more, read some more, Facebooked, read some more.  And decided to blog about not being able to write.  Seriously. 

It is one of those essays where I just can't figure out where I want to start, so I have been putting it off for quite a while, and now the dreaded due date is looming large.  Sigh.  The funny thing is I have had some real successes with my writing this semester - I have written essays in a remarkably short amount of time (what took me days and weeks last semester is only taking hours and days), and I'm getting excellent feedback and marks.  So what is the problem this time?  I think it is because this has subjective content, and I am questioning myself on it.  Because that's what I do.

It is ironic that I am choosing to avoid writing an essay, on writing, by writing.  I have some serious writing issues, but I guess that the only way to solve these issues is to stop procrastinating and get writing.

I'm going in cold

Group projects and presentations. I know I am not the only one, but there are times that this fills me with fear, and times where I feel excited about the knowledge I can share.

This last week I was filled with the former, and it is all my own fault.  I hated (strong word!) the reading I needed to do for this presentation.  They were journal articles that were full of jargon, and writing that was neither clear nor concise. I found them incredibly difficult to get into, and barely gleaned any information, however after spending an entire weekend reading these two articles I decided that I had enough information to prove that I had read them, and could talk on the subject matter enough.  I was going in hoping.

Boy, my body belied the truth of my preparedness.  I was showing signs of stress before I went up with my group, it wasn't going to bother me, I've done presentations before, and done them very well.  Hah! So up I go, and we attempt to talk about the articles.

Well, then the sweats began. My feet were sweating. My KNEES were sweating (yes I went there!).  Then I tried to talk, fumbling through my notes that suddenly I could not read. My face went so red, and being so very pale and knowing everyone could see my discomfort I decided to own it.

"I'm so embarrassed right now, sorry guys" I say, fanning my face with my books.  Oh boy.

In the end I was able to say enough, and perhaps even redeem myself a little- I hope to still pass this element of assessment.

I learnt a very valuable lesson— no matter how difficult the subject is, it is no excuse for being under prepared, you need to be able to talk the talk.

Don't go in cold people, you will only come out hot!
     

The like button

Social media has a lot to answer for. It has permeated so much of so many peoples lives, and I am not immune to its effects.  I am not even talking about mere using using media, and the frequency it is used, but the way it has shaped our language  and relate to others.

Enter the like button. It crept upon me slowly, but it has left its mark. I only noticed how dependant I am on liking by noticing its absence. I find my self reading forums and blogs and wanting to 'like', and finding instead that I need to use words, where I have been using the like.

What does a like say? It says more than I like your picture or I like what you say. It also says I hear you, I support you, or I have sympathy I feel your pain.  It can say you are funny, or I like you.  How did this like button come to say so much?

I am not really sure how or when, but I like it.

Lessons in good writing from unexpected places

I have to write an essay on good writing, and I have really struggled to find the appropriate subject matter that I can pick apart, and still find that it is good writing.  "Good" is such a personal thing, however I still want to be able to discuss it and put forward a credible argument where others would agree with me.  I guess the problem is that the standards to which I hold myself, however unattainable, I also apply to others.  I read quite a lot, and I find that I will read things that I mostly enjoy, but pick apart the parts that I don't enjoy, and lump that into bad writing.  Perhaps then they really are unrealistic standards.

My son has a beautiful writing style.  Frankly, I find him quite amazing.  As he proudly showed me his homework one night this week I just had the greatest sense of pride in this wonderful nine year old.

What makes his writing beautiful? It is to the point, clear, concise, however I don't think it is basic.  He extends himself to learn new vocabulary, but only uses words that he can understand.  He manages to put humour into almost anything, never in-your-face-in-the-way humour, but dare I say it, he even borders on wit...like I said I think he is amazing.

It is always a pleasure to read his work, and I really don't think this is just a boastful mother talking.

If a nine year old can grasp writing in such style, then what is my excuse?


I am at the point that I have found a piece that I find 'worthy', and I am looking forward to writing this essay (so far).  I think that writing should be a pleasure - not only to read, but to write too.

Insomnia and the machine

So I completed two short essays over the weekend, handed them in Monday. Tuesday was the day for one of them to be returned. (Let's take a moment here to say "Bravo" to that busy lecturer for the fast turnaround!). I sit in class, maybe a little nervously as he starts to talk about the essays.  Said lecturer starts to pull out quotes from the essays.  They were good.  I mean really good.  Some of my classmates had captured some nuances that I hadn't even thought of.  Mine didn't get looked at.  So I sat there, and my palms began to sweat. Hell my FEET began to sweat.  He said he marked generously, the lowest was only a 7 out of 10, and that next time it would probably actually mean a 5. I was convinced- I was crap, I shouldn't be in this class, wasting his time and my time.  I had a 7- well should I really just call it a 5?

Finally he calls us one by one to return this darn essay, mine was near to top of the pile, and hesitantly I look while others have theirs returned.  First paragraph, no tick. Crap, missed the mark there, stupid intro, not what he wanted.  Next paragraph, a tick. Phew, it was okay. Third- two large ticks. Yes! Final paragraph, two more ticks! Okay, not too bad, I can live with this....this....oh my goodness, I got 9/10!  'Very well written'. Oh the relief! That feels good! 

Then, class is dismissed, I text a beautiful supportive uni friend who understands how my mind works.  We have a couple of jokes and get some wonderful encouragement.  Then the drive home.  I sit in there car analysing everything.  Is my nine really a seven? Very well written is not exceptionally well written. It's not at the top, so that means it's not really that good.  No, it's a nine and a very well written! That is a clear A! Take it woman!  And so the thoughts go round and round. Oh dear! Will I ever learn?

So then I spend a chunk of the evening telling myself off.

Oh, and checking my blog, haha.  Thrilled and a little scared to find that some classmates have started to follow me, and that I have some wonderful comments (thanks guys).  Here is where the insomnia kicks in. All this took me to the moment where I look at the clock and realise that it is 11pm.  I am an old lady(ish), way past my bedtime, so I quickly hop into bed.

Only to find that my mind is still racing, about what blogs I could write.  Gah!

Oh, the overthinking

"Far out, this essay is only 300 words and I'm sitting here staring at a blank screen-and checking Facebook haha. Seriously, it's not even that hard"

This, my post from a day last week that I had set aside for 'study', but it could be applied to any attempt at essay writing since starting uni last semester.  Why? Because I get crippled by the sheer possibility of everything I could write.   I get excited about where I could take my argument, at times indecisive about what line I would like my argument to take.  Then taking it back to readings, and relevant references- Wow - and all because I have this idea that I have to get great marks.  I overthink it all, and even though I know better now, one semester in I'm still doing it. I am however getting better at cutting out the nonsense in my own head, and that's a good start.  

I have been much the same with this blog.  I changed the name of it 3 or so times, started other blogs in case I didn't like where this one took me.  No, I'm not an overthinker at all!  (Or sarcastic).

The most important lesson I have learnt when completing assignments is that I do come up with good plans, I can actually write, and once that assignment has been handed in it ceases to be a worry.  So come on overthinking brain- let's get on board the less stress train while we are completing work, and our world will be a better place, okay?

Routine and curve balls

I am often surprised about the parallels between what I am studying in one class to that in another, then how that relates to my own life. I really shouldn't be, there is a reason why all this "stuff" has been, and continues to be, analysed, dissected, taught. 

Sociology was the theme for the first part of today, talking of our various roles in society, and how so often we don't really have a choice of what our roles are.  Wife, mother, student- there is really nothing new about these roles, even if there are new things for me. It can be startling to think of life this way.

I have managed to tick a few boxes today. I got my exercise in, house is at least reasonably tidy, I am almost getting my reading done (oh so much reading!). Then the unexpected-  an injured pet. It is ridiculous how off kilter you can get when a) your day doesn't go as planned, and b) there is an injury to a 'loved one'.  It takes up time and precious headspace, and I'm not even sure which one is more important.  

That's the juggling act that is life though, and I know that it is not only me- sociology tells me so!

I wanted to write a witty blog but maybe I'm too serious

Having to start  a blog as a uni assignment is quite daunting.  I'm not much of a sharer, even though I am on Facebook, and have recently started using instagram.  I really am just not that interested in people knowing all that much about me.  A touch of mystery is always good, right?  Well here we go anyway, and as it is not a state of normal for me I am going to share.  I am going to share the mundane, the exciting, the everyday excitements and frustrations of trying to do it "all", whatever all is.

Life is ridiculously busy for me, whilst so often feeling like it is on hold.  I'm a wife, a mother, a uni student, crazy cat and dog lady (so often my fb posts are animal related, how sad).  I try to keep the family nourished with delicious healthy foods (that are devoid of sugar, but more on that later), keep the house neat, walk the dogs, stay fit, keep on top of uni, spend 'quality time' with my son, nourish my relationship, stay sane, have alone time. 

 Life suffers during semester, I stop answering phone calls and replying to texts, I tend to not visit family and friends, and do as little as possible while keeping up with 'it all'.  There are some moments that are unproductive however - I don't study at night, no housework is done whilst the rest of the house is asleep, and I watch what is probably a stupid amount of television given all of the above.  So I guess this leads me to an aim for the rest of this semester for  a beginning - to be more 'present' in whatever it is I'm doing at the time.  To stop over complicating tasks, whether on the uni front or home front.  And I don't have to do it all.  Maybe.

And just maybe I will get to write those witty posts.