Tuesday. First test…Wish me luck…

June 9, 2009 at 12:41 pm (Day to Day, School News) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Nervous. First test of the first class. Requires 4 alarms and a wake-up call. Well, not the call, but I did have 4 alarms. I know that seems crazy, but this is my new normal. I need to do well. But first I need to get there!

So I was very ready to go. Got there early. Had my pencils. And erasers. I was sure I knew the material. But the first test is, really, the first test. How will the questions be? Tricky? Easy? Complicated? Way too vague? Way too detailed? Words galore? Or to the point? Blah blah blah…It’s always the bar…

By the time you are reading this, of course, I will be done.

I did take the test, and unofficially, got  2 wrong. For the amount of questions on the test, that’s not too bad. Still fits into the grade I am aiming for. Official results are to be posted later through the school website.(I’m keeping it vague on my part because I don’t want to give away any info that shouldn’t be given away. But I want to share the experience and have a place to think out loud and work it over in my head, privately, but publicly (?), I might be a little neurotic…my family will thank you after I go over it 20 times with them and they just can’t take anymore!)

Anyway, I’m glad for the summer class and the chance to get an idea of the work that will be required. It’s a lot. I only hope I can finish, and then finish respectably.

Hug a nurse. They gave a lot to get what they got. They deserve it.

And now, I’d like to say I can relax and read a trash magazine and just chill until tomorrow when I start reading school stuff again, but I can’t. I stupidly booked a dentist appointment for myself (and my son–needs it for school registration), and, I am sorry all you dentists/hygienists out there, but I HATE going to the dentist! I know it’s irrational. I know it’s just a cleaning. But I dread it. I don’t like the teeth poking, the x-rays, the gritty toothpaste, the suction thingy, etc…I have always been afraid, and I can’t seem to shake the fear no matter how old I get.

A little story to illustrate: After years and years of recommendations, I finally got my wisdom teeth out. You would have thought I was having major surgery to remove organs and limbs and rebuild muscles and bones. I talked it to death with anyone who would listen and I made my mommy come with me for every appointment. Pre-, day of, after, check-up, re-check-up, cleaning, packing…whatever. It was last July and I thought I was going to die. Literally. I even made a will. Official and everything. Witnessed, Notarized and Kissed by a Lawyer! I wish I could say that I was cool about the whole dentist thing, but embarrassingly and humiliatingly, I cannot. (In my defense, my very small defense, I DID get an infection/dry socket or whatever they call it—I chose to block the complete experience out–nearly 100% gone now–and it hurt like hell. And I had 2 kids, TWO kids, WITHOUT pain medicine. I took the Vicodan and it didn’t help. The medicine on a cotton blob stuffed in the empty hole; that kind of helped. I get food stuck in there, AND I still have a small hole. It’s really annoying now for brushing and I didn’t know it takes SO long to finally cover over, if ever. But I digress. I’ll stop because I could type for 10 more paragraphs and no one wants to read it and most people have had it done and aren’t such babies and don’t really care. I get carried away. My apologies.)

Luckily though! My kids DO NOT share my fears! They like to go and always feel better after! Thank goodness! They have good, strong teeth and good personalities to go with them. They think I am silly and just don’t get the whole terror thing. And my daughter had 4 cavities filled at one point, AND  fell on her face, chipping her front teeth, TWICE!, already. So she knows the evil that can occur! (FYI–Her teeth are totally fine now, with no long-term or lasting effects—she was VERY lucky.)

At any rate that’s the rest of the day. I can only hope to find some loose change on the ground and then drive straight to a Starbuck’s right after. It’s my own little reward system for being a brave, little soldier. Sad. I know.

I need a picture to make me feel better.

Rubber Band Ball!!

Check it out!

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