Month: July 2011

Mark to the rescue

I wonder what sort of uniform the nerd superhero wears?

There is still a few glitches (can’t leave blog comments), but I have my calendar back, and I have all my blog feeds! Normality is resuming, and I adore my husband. Not just for his good looks!

And tonight is results night. Pizza and red wine are on the menu, my friend Dionne is coming from Newcastle with her kids, and we are going to cover the kitchen in flour and dough while we wait for those crucial text messages. Dionne was in my environmental peace unit, so we are supporting each other.

And tomorrow I am teaching small children to knit. Give me strength!

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And here is a picture of a small boy playing an orange ukelele.

Dear Google

Please stop messing with my head. I have been trying to stay relatively stable for a while now, but deleting all of my data from my accounts (or just hiding it from me and giving me incomprehensible instructions for “fixing” it) is depleting my will to exist.

All I want is to look at my (insert expletive) calendar, and know where the (insert expletive) I am supposed to be for the rest of the week, and when I am supposed to be there. I’d also like some certainty around next week too. And I am pretty sure Squishy has a dentists appointment at the end of the month. Actually, is it too much to ask if I can have all of my data back? Please?

The only way I have been able to function since I got out of hospital and started to be able to look after myself again was to stay scheduled up to the eyeballs. Take my schedule away, and I am just a quivering mass.

Environmental Peace essay result

51/60

So that is 85%, which means, that with my mark for online participation, I should score an HD overall for the unit. I still have to wait until the 14th for official confirmation, but I am pretty confident.

Such a relief. I realized yesterday that I am using uni like a replacement for mothering my boys. My insane need to do well is a transference for the energy I was supposed to be putting into mothering my three boys. Doing well at uni is feeding my need for competence. As if my failure to bring my babies home was a failure that I should have avoided, that I should have had more control over.

I know it is unhinged, so thanks for humouring me while I blather on about results.