Black Friday, Part III

Spring semester: day twenty-one

Much of the weekend was a blur, as weekends usually are when I'm tired and stressed out. It was a good blur, yes, but I'm trying to remember everything that happened and in what order so that I can better recount it all.

So. I'll pick up where I left off, on Valentine's Day itself.

We didn't do a whole lot, really. We didn't have plans to do a whole lot anyway, so it's not like we had plans that fell through or anything like that. Daisy dressed up for me (take from that what you will) and gave me her Valentine's Day presents -- some candy, a vegan beef stick, homemade oatmeal cookie bars, and the big one that I loved the most out of all of them -- homemade nerdy pillowcases:

In case you can't see the designs that well, the left one is the women of DC Comics -- Supergirl, Wonder Woman, and Batgirl -- and the right one is classic Marvel heroes. I love them both. Like, a lot. This was an awesome gift. She made my Christmas stocking out of the same fabric pattern she used for the Marvel pillowcase. I'd love to see if I can get a shirt pattern for either her or Mama to see if either of them could make an awesome button-up shirt with this style of fabric. I'm such a nerd. She made the pillowcases because I hate most of the pillowcases I have -- I have a king-size bed, so the sheet sets for said bed come with king-size pillowcases when I don't have king-size pillows, just normal ones. That means those pillowcases are like eight inches too long, and it drives me nuts (I'm a very particular person about this sort of thing, apparently).

Daisy made these because of that, and I was sooooo happy. She said they didn't take too long to make, either. I'm marrying a woman who can sew, folks! I'm thrilled about that. So thrilled.

In addition to those things, I also got a surprise Valentine's Day present (I suppose) from her father -- two massive garbage bags full of really nice pants. Dad has been losing a lot of weight over the past few months, and his waist size before that was 42 -- the same waist size I've had since I was in 7th grade, which has never changed no matter how much weight I gain/lose (because the way my hips are shaped and because of the way I carry my weight and wear my pants). Well, now that these pants are way too big for him, apparently, he wanted to donate them to charity -- but as you know, Dad's policy is "family first," so they went to me.

I tried on all of them. I modeled them for Daisy. They are all a perfect fit. Every pair. And there are probably thirty pairs in all, of several different designs (cargo pants, slacks, dress slacks, casual work pants, etc), including three pairs of shorts, which fit just as nicely. And all of them are in great shape. It's like I died and went to pants heaven. From now until the end of the semester I'll be wearing new-to-me pants almost every single day, sometimes even with the shoes Dad gave me over Thanksgiving (which I wore to teach in on Thursday, actually, so Daisy got to see what those look like on me as well). I'm thrilled. And I did, of course, thank him for the gift.

As an aside, as I've mentioned before, Daisy's parents are indeed wonderful and have always done all sorts of things to let me know I'm loved, wanted, and appreciated. Mama constantly bakes breads and rolls for me for almost every time Daisy comes down here, and worries strongly about my health (because I smoke), amongst many other she does for me/us. Dad is able to bond with me in ways he can't bond with other people, since we both know a ton about computers, have a penchant for tie-dye (which Mama does as well) and I have an appreciation for knives, guns, and good wine, just like he does. He also makes sure that if there's anything he can do for me/us (pants, shoes, appliances, bed sheets, etc) that it's done. I adore Daisy's parents and family -- I've never made a secret of that. I am very, very lucky to have all of them in my life, and incredibly grateful. I must've done something right in a past life, right?

So, getting back to the story at hand...

As I mentioned, I ordered a new engagement ring for Daisy as her Valentine's Day present, since her last one wore out and broke a few months after its resizing. I ordered it more than a week in advance so that it would have time to get here, but the shipping wasn't exactly fast on it. Well, it was fast enough, but I'll get to that in a bit. The main point here is that it hadn't arrived by Friday, so I had nothing of consequence to give her.

Yes, I know, some of you are thinking "there's always chocolates and flowers!" Yeah, well, good luck getting a box of Valentine's Day chocolates that are vegan, as every box I saw was milk chocolate. This is Kansas, where there are probably five vegans in the entire state. Be realistic. As for flowers? While Daisy loves flowers, she's made it a point to tell me that she doesn't really want them on typical "flower giving" holidays, as they don't really mean anything then, and would rather get them at random times for no reason at all -- something I strongly agree with as well. So, instead, I got her a jar of her favorite peanut butter-filled pretzel nuggets, and I searched the racks for a card that summed up our relationship perfectly. When I found one, I purchased it and was, well, basically done when it came to getting Valentine's Day stuff.

So, I gave those things to her, and had her read the card aloud. She cried. Like, sobbed, for a good minute or so. It was awesome. Inside the card, after the message, I wrote "I love you, my princess." Which, if you know me, is a huge fucking deal as I absolutely haaaaaaaate the term "princess." I despise it. I loathe it. I've ranted about the use of the word on several occasions. So, calling Daisy my princess was a big deal, a big step for me. And that's probably what made her cry more than anything else.

I didn't have the new ring, though, which for me put a damper on it, but she understood that it was still coming.

We went out in the afternoon and picked up some more groceries, but not a lot -- we made a trip to the Dollar Tree (as is customary for us to do when she's here) and stopped at Walmart again. Walmart was so busy that we could barely get through the aisles, but there was stuff I had to get for the house -- the cats needed food and litter, and we needed a few things to add to our dinner plans. We hadn't actually shopped at Walmart the day before -- we'd just tried to cash my check there and did our actual shopping at the Dillon's stores here in town. It's too expensive, however, to do all of my shopping at Dillon's, and they don't carry the cat food the kids eat. So, we got what we needed, and seeing the line for register 15 (the only one you can purchase cigarettes at) stretch back through the store, I gave up on getting those for the day and we checked out and went home.

Once at home, we made dinner -- Daisy made her famous spinach artichoke dip (which I also just ate a ton of a while ago, because I'm a fat bastard) and we watched a movie: Cloud Atlas. Eh. I liked it okay, but I also had a ton of problems with it and its execution. It's also almost three hours long, and Daisy fell asleep about 45 minutes in. After that, we went to bed. It was another night of up/down sleeping patterns for us. I couldn't sleep, so I got up, and then went back to bed later, with both of us getting up around the same time on Saturday morning.

On Saturday, the last day we'd have the chance to get it before Daisy needed to go home to work (and I needed to spend a good chunk of the weekend's remainder grading through my students' papers)...the ring arrived. Now that she has it, I can show it off here:

There. There it is. That's Daisy's new ring.

Her reaction (initially, anyhow) was good. She said she liked it. Then later she told me that she wasn't sure that she liked it (which was a bit of apprehension/backlash in comparing this ring to her original ring which broke) before, even later, admitting that it was growing on her and that it was, basically, something new she'd have to get used to, especially in comparison with the first ring -- which was smaller, had a more antiqued (not polished) finish, and had smaller stones overall.

"It's big and flashy," she said. "It's so bright."

"Honey, the point of an engagement ring is to get people to notice it."

"I liked the first ring so much because it was a lot like my mom's ring," she said. "Antiqued, simple, a thinner band, and it went well with the wedding band I picked out. The only wedding band that will go with this one is a plain band."

"First of all," I said, "nothing goes with the wedding band you picked out."

She showed me, several months ago, the wedding band that she wants. It's hideous. As in, terribly hideous. I can say this here because she knows I absolutely hate it. It's some weird, thin, goofy design that incorporates knots and leaves (or some shit like that) and has uneven, asymmetrical sides, and it has like three different colors of gold in it in little sections. I hate it. Haaaaaaate it. I think it's one of the ugliest ring designs I've ever seen. And nothing at all can be paired with it and have it look like a matched pair of rings, regardless of what she thinks. Not this ring, not her first ring, nothing except a ring specially designed to go with her wedding band...which, if they make it, it's probably thousands of dollars and just as ugly.

But, it's her ring, and it's her finger, and she's the one who wants to buy it and wear it day and night for the rest of our lives, so it's up to her what wedding band she wants. Far be it from me to tell her she can't pick out her own wedding band. I bought mine almost a year ago.

"I mean, the first ring was the proposal ring, it was special because of that...this one's just...different."

"Give me the ring," I said.

"What?"

"Give me the ring. Take it off."

She looked at me strangely and did so. I immediately dropped to one knee in the same spot in the kitchen I'd proposed last time, looked up at her with the ring in my fingers, and asked, "Will you marry me?"

She almost cried. She whimpered.

"Well?"

"Yes," she said.

"Good," I replied, putting the ring back on her finger and standing back up. "There. Now this one's a proposal ring too. Problem solved."

And we kissed, and that was basically the end of it. It's growing on her, as she said, and I expected at least a little backlash since it wasn't her original ring, but she's not said anything about it since. I'm guessing she's still getting used to it. Her parents and friends all like the ring, going as far as to say they think it's "beautiful" and "gorgeous," etc. When she told me this I just grinned at her smugly. And, while she has taken several photos of it, she's not yet posted them anywhere. So, yeah, I guess it's a transition period.

We went to the discount grocery store on Saturday afternoon and got a few things, but not a lot. She found some more of the salad dressings she likes, amongst some other small things, and I got some more cereal, some instant rice noodle bowls for quick meals, a few cans/jars of gravy (so that I can make poutine at home), etc. Nothing major. It was really to get out of the house and enjoy the beautiful weather -- it was in the 60s on Saturday. After that, we went back to Walmart again so that I could pick up the cigarettes I couldn't get the day before, and she wanted to pick out a movie for us to watch, since she wasn't interested in anything else in my collection (and I don't blame her; my movies are generally "not her thing"). The movie she ended up picking out was Men in Black 3, which neither of us had seen, but both of us had wanted to see when it came out. It was, actually, really good. They took a premise which could have, potentially, been very stupid, and made a good movie out of it in the vein and style of the first two. We made pasta and vegan garlic bread for dinner, and both of us went to bed at the same time that night (for once).

When Sunday morning came around, I got up first. She wanted to sleep in so that she would be well-rested to drive and go back home to work that night, so I let her. About 40 minutes after I woke up, she came upstairs and told me that she could no longer sleep, so she was going to gather her stuff, get ready, and just go -- in order to get home early and take a nap once she was there (if she had time). So, I helped her get everything together, did a double-check of the house to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything, and she went home. I spent the majority of the day afterwards doing lesson planning, grading my 210 students' papers, and cleaning/doing laundry. She arrived home safely and went back to work that night, and everything returned to the normal status quo our lives have become.

Since then, not a whole lot has happened or has been going on. Yesterday, I spent the day finishing up school stuff and taking care of anything I didn't do over the weekend before talking to Daisy when she got up before work, and going to bed myself around 8:30 or 9 (with the help of a sleeping pill). I got up this morning a little before 6, talked to Daisy briefly again, and then got dressed to go back to work today.

It's supposed to be near, or above, 70 degrees here this afternoon. It's already in the 40s. As today is Tuesday, however, it is (of course) my long day. I'll be on both campuses from about 8:45 AM to, probably, 8:45 or so tonight. Roughly, anyway. I don't have a whole lot to do in the way of lesson planning, and I have no grading whatsoever (since I finished that on Sunday), so for the majority of the day, I'll just be there. On the plus side, I've gotten used to having this one long day every week before two short days, and while it's not the best schedule in the world, it's far from the worst. My week is half over when I get home on Tuesday nights -- I've taught half of my classes for the week when I'm done, even though I have to go back and forth to/from West campus twice more on Wednesday night and Thursday morning, those days/times are quite easy in comparison.

There is one other major thing that I wanted to add before I close this post down and wander off to school -- I told Daisy this morning that once I get my bills and rent paid off for the month (read: once my check gets into the bank and I can take care of those things), that I was seriously considering just buying a 2DS and the new Pokemon game with the Discover card, because I've been so sick of not having it and I've been too poor to afford (or justify) buying it.

I'm not a gamer. I don't "game," I'm not into it, I don't care to be into it. I don't have the time to be into that sort of culture anyway. My one gaming vice is that I follow the Pokemon series and have always gotten the new game on its release day for the past, oh, ten years or more. Only the main series games, mind you, not the side games. When the new one came out last year, this wouldn't have been a problem if it weren't 2DS/3DS only, meaning to be able to play it, it would cost me about $200 total as I'd have to buy the new system. So I didn't get it because I was so poor, and for the past several months I've avoided all news/friends talking about it so that I didn't get bitter.

When I mentioned this to Daisy this morning, she said "Do you want me to get it for you?"

"...with what money that you're flush with and apparently rolling in?" I asked.

She had her tax return processed a few weeks ago, and she already has the money from it. Most of it's going to the wedding costs, yes, but she said she'd use some to get the 2DS and game for me if I wanted her to, just because sometimes it's nice to get something you've wanted for a long time -- and believe me, she knows I've wanted that for a long time and have been depressed that I've been unable to get it.

So, she ordered it for me. It arrives on Thursday -- more than likely right after I finish my classes for the week and come home for the weekend. She also got a case and some extra peripherals for it for me as well.

I...I really didn't know what to say. I still don't. After being so stressed and overwhelmed over the past several weeks when it comes to so many things in my life wearing me down or being just general pains-in-the-ass, I just...I wanted to break down into tears, really. Daisy is so good to me that it's overwhelming in itself. She doesn't have to do anything she does. I'd never ask her to do anything for me unless it was an emergency (hence when/why she wired me money when I needed it), and even then I feel extremely guilty. I feel it important to mention that while her job is decent enough, Daisy doesn't make much more money than I do, really. The difference is negligible when one factors in that she has car payments/insurance and a monthly cell phone bill as well, and I don't have those things. Tax refunds are one thing, and yes, we have a wedding to finish planning and paying for, but Daisy's generosity and her kind soul just...transcends that, I suppose? I don't know how to process someone being so wonderful to and for me. It's not like it's ever really happened before.

Anyway. I'm off to class now. More later, folks.

Frazzled

I'm burnt-out and tired. And I need a break from real life for a few minutes. So I'm doing this.

Here are the 65 Questions You've Probably Never Been Asked...




1. First thing you wash in the shower?
Usually my chest, as it's what the water hits first. I guess.

2. What color is your favorite hoodie?
A deep maroon purple sort of color. I don't know what to call it. I got it on clearance four years ago at Target for like, $5.

3. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?
As that would be Daisy, yes. Duh.

4. Do you plan outfits?
A week in advance, baby. I'm cool like that.

5. How are you feeling right now?
See the first line of this post.

6. What’s the closest thing to you that's red?
The Adventure Time t-shirt I'm currently wearing. And two different flash drives, my pack of cigarettes, my can of coffee, and the trash can I'm resting my foot against.

7. Tell me about the last dream you remember having?
I had a nightmare about zombies a few nights ago. I don't usually remember my dreams.

8. Did you meet anybody new today?
Nope. I never left the house. I haven't showered or changed my clothes since Friday morning, either. Welcome to my life.

9. What are you craving right now?
Nothing, really -- Daisy's cooking while she was here sated my cravings for the time being.

10. Do you floss?
Not with actual floss, but I always have at least four or five flosser picks on my desk in front of me.

11. What comes to mind when I say cabbage?
Vile, disgusting weed. Unless it's coleslaw. Then I'm good with it.

12. Are you emotional?
Eh. I can be. I tend to bottle things up unless I'm around someone who knows me really well. Most of those people have since moved out of state.

13. Have you ever counted to 1,000?
Funny story: I used to do this almost every night when my ex lived here with me and we went to bed. She wanted me to come to bed with her every night, but I was never tired enough to sleep at like, 9:30. So I would lay there with her, count to 1,000 (or until she started snoring, whichever came first) then get up and go back upstairs to the computer until I was tired enough to go to bed.

14. Do you bite into your ice cream or just lick it?
I don't really eat ice cream much, but when I do, it's usually in a bowl with a spoon -- negating either choice.

15. Do you like your hair?
When I can get it to look good? You bet your sweet ass.

16. Do you like yourself?
See previous answer.

17. Would you go out to eat with George W. Bush?
I think that would be a hell of an interesting dinner, would it not? I'd do it simply for the story to tell later.

18. What are you listening to right now?
My oscillating fan as it blows cigarette smoke out my window.

19. Are your parents strict?
I wouldn't say strict as much as overprotective and paranoid.

20. Would you go sky diving?
Shit yes. Name the time and place.

21. Do you like cottage cheese?
I bought three pounds of it yesterday and ate one of those pounds today. In one sitting. In about ten minutes. So, yes.

22. Have you ever met a celebrity?
Chuck Palahniuk, but that's about it. And I've met a few NFL players either before or after they got famous, but nothing really to write home about. I live a really boring life, folks.

23. Do you rent movies often?
Psh. I haven't rented a movie since the Blockbuster here in Newton closed down in 2011 or so. If I want to see a new movie, I either go see it in the theater with Daisy or buy the DVD/Blu-ray when it comes out. Or both.

24. Is there anything sparkly in the room you're in?
No. Not that I'm aware of, anyway.

25. How many countries have you visited?
One. The one I'm currently living in. Again, boring life, folks.

26. Have you made a prank phone call?
Many, many of them, many years ago. Like, grade school.

27. Ever been on a train?
Many times.

28. Brown or white eggs?
Interestingly enough, I don't really like eggs. I mean, I'll eat them, but I don't outright choose to eat them. I never have egg cravings. I never order them at restaurants for breakfast. I don't use them to cook with. I have no use for them.

29. Do you have a cell-phone?
Yes. It's a Samsung flip phone that was obsolete four or five years before I bought it. And most of the time it's turned off or silenced because it's prepaid and I'm too poor to get new minutes for it.

30. Do you use chap stick?
No, actually, I don't. I have a few different brands of lip balm that I'll use when necessary, but none of them are actual Chap Stick.

31. Do you own a gun?
Yes. And I will own more eventually.

32. Can you use chopsticks?
Yes, with practice, though I find them inefficient and mostly useless in comparison to actual cutlery.

33. Who are you going to be with tonight?
My own hairy, manly bod.

34. Are you too forgiving?
No. Hah. No, no, I'm not. I don't forgive easily, which is why there are many people who have been excised from my life over the years. I'm guessing about thirty or so total.

35. Ever been in love?
Many times.

36. What is your friend(s) doing tomorrow?
Probably ignoring my existence as per the usual. I have become a hermit, a ghost in the night -- nobody ever sees me or talks to me unless I'm physically present.

37. Ever have cream puffs?
Shit yes. And I want some, now that you mention it. Okay, so there's one craving.

38. Last time you cried?
About two months ago, roughly.

39. What was the last question you asked?
I asked Rae if she was coming to Omaha for Spring Break. She didn't answer.

40. Favorite time of the year?
When it's 80 degrees, breezy, and mostly cloudy.

42. Are you sarcastic?
Sarcasm is a second language that I speak fluently. And this questionnaire skipped number 41.

43. Have you ever seen The Butterfly Effect?
I own the unrated cut on Blu-ray.

44. Ever walked into a mall?
Yes, because THIS IS AMERICA.

45. Favorite color?
Black. Seconded by dark navy blue that's almost black. Then silver. Then probably deep, dark forest green.

46. Have you ever slapped someone?
Not recently, but yes.

47. Is your hair curly?
I prefer to call it "wavy," as it has much less natural curl now than it did when I was younger.

48. What was the last CD you bought?
Tonight: Franz Ferdinand. Like, easily two or three years ago now. I don't count CDs which were purchased for me. If I did, the last one would be The Breakfast Club soundtrack, which Daisy got for me/us during Christmas break.

49. Do looks matter?
I'm getting married in three months. I don't even notice other people anymore. Daisy is beautiful and she's all I care about.

50. Could you ever forgive a cheater?
No. And I still haven't. Take from that statement what you will.

51. Is your phone bill sky high?
I don't have a phone bill. Prepaid.

52. Do you like your life right now?
Overall? No. I'm constantly stressed out, I'm incredibly underpaid, can barely ever get quality sleep unless I take a sleeping pill and force it on myself, my car is falling apart, my bills pile higher and higher every month, and I am (underneath it all, anyway) a deeply spiteful, resentful, evil person. Buuuuut...I have Daisy. And Daisy is the one shining star, the one good thing in my life, the love of my life and the person who is helping me turn it all back around. I have a loving family and caring friends. I have my cats. For now, at least, I have my health. And those are the only things that truly matter anyhow.

53. Do you sleep with the TV on?
No. The TV in my bedroom isn't hooked up to anything but a rarely-used PlayStation 1 and a $20 DVD player, which is used just as seldomly.

54. Can you handle the truth?
I deal in nothing but truths.

55. Do you have good vision?
Mostly. Unless a pineapple slices my eye open and leaves my vision blurry for months. I have trouble seeing in low-light environments, and I do have glasses that I only wear when I have to work for long periods of time when I'm really tired (though I should wear them almost constantly). You can see my old ones in my profile picture here. Those ones broke about a year ago.

56. Do you hate or dislike more than 3 people?
Yes. Many, many more than three.

57. How often do you talk on the phone?
Only when it absolutely cannot be avoided. I loathe the telephone and only own a cell phone for emergencies. I wouldn't own one if I could avoid it.

58. The last person you held hands with?
Daisy. This morning.

59. What are you wearing?
Black slippers, a pair of boot socks, blue pajama pants, tie-dyed boxer briefs, a black long-sleeved t-shirt, and on top of that a red "What Time Is It? ADVENTURE TIME!" t-shirt. Hey, you asked.

60. What is your favorite animal?
My three cats. Don't ask me to choose just one.

61. Where was your default picture taken?
Default picture? Like, the one I have here as my Blogger profile picture? I took it here in my Man Cave in 2011. My Twitter profile picture was taken last May with Daisy in Omaha. My Facebook profile picture was taken on Valentine's Day with Daisy in my living room.

62. Can you hula hoop?
Probably. I don't know, as I don't own one and haven't tried.

63. Do you have a job?
Yes. I am an English professor. Or, excuse me, an "Academic Lecturer."

64. What was the most recent thing you bought?
I bought a lot of groceries and household supplies at various places this weekend.

65. Have you ever crawled through a window?
Yes, though not in the past twenty years or so.

Okay, that's it. I'm out. Going to bed now. I'll continue the story of my weekend here tomorrow.

Black Friday, Part II

(now, to continue the story...)

Because I didn't really have any other option at this point, and because I still had a mostly-useless check in my hand instead of the money I needed out of said check, I looked at the receipts/cards both places had given me. The one for Walmart had one phone number on it, and the one for Dillon's had another number on it, both for the same Certegy people. Why I had two different numbers was beyond me, but okay. I took the one from Dillon's, which had more information on it, and called.

What followed was several automated menus where they wanted me to either speak or manually enter the check information (for which the robo-voice kept telling me it didn't understand what I said) before I was transferred to a live person -- a lady whose accent was so thick I could barely understand her.

As an aside, Daisy said "I could hear and understand her just fine, but I talk to people with accents all the time for my job."

Anyway. I gave this lady the Reader's Digest version of what had happened, telling her that it was a payroll check from the university, an "advance" check, and that I'd tried to cash it at two different places with the same result -- those places telling me to call her to see what was wrong with it. She took the check's numbers, my driver's license number, the amount, and the places where I'd tried to cash it, and ran it all through the system to verify that yes, it was a real check, yes, I had tried to cash it, and that yes, everything was on-the-level. What she found out, and explained to me, was confusing, but I'll try to sum it up the best I can here.

The Certegy people don't have any information about available funds and/or personal info on anyone, but they operate on a set of metrics, algorithms, and patterns for the types of checks that go through their system for verification. It's a sort of "extra" security measure type of company to ensure that there's no fraud taking place and that nobody's just cut a check to themselves from an otherwise verified account and the like. When I said "patterns" before, I meant it -- if you personally don't have a pattern of cashing checks from the issuer, if the check is larger than most checks from the issuer normally are, if it's the first time you've tried to cash, not deposit, a check from the issuer, or try to cash it at a new place you've never cashed a check before -- it trips those "pattern" flags and Certegy will block it. This basically means you can have every right to the check and the money contained on it, but unless you're simply depositing it into a bank account directly, you just can't do anything about it and can't get your money. It's basically a "for deposit only" check without actually having that written on there. I understand the need for security measures of some sort, yes, but the number of security measures they have and the multiple layers of security measures they have absolutely screws over anyone without easy access to a local bank account for deposit, or those people without a bank account at all.

What this boils down to is that she was able to run all of the numbers I gave her, telling me that yes, the check was verified, yes, the amount and numbers and info on it was all completely correct and it had been issued to me and me only, and yes, that everything in all systems had the green light -- but nowhere would let me cash the check because of their metrics and the fact that I personally did not have a history of cashing these checks or cashing checks from this fund, so no matter what it would still flag me in the system and prevent me from accessing my own money.

What I really wanted to ask around this time was something along the lines of can you just unflag me in the system and turn that shit off for this check so that I can get my fucking money, please? But I didn't. They can't, incidentally -- they don't have a "file" on me in their system or anything like that, and collect no personal information when a check is processed somewhere and it trips their verification systems. They can't change anything; all they can do is give me info on why it wouldn't go through -- they can't make it go through on another try. They just explain why based on the information presented.

"Okay," I said. "So how can I get the money out of this check? Is there somewhere I can cash it or get it processed?"

"You can get it cashed at the issuing bank only," she said, "or deposit it normally into your bank account. Those are the only two options."

I thanked her for her help and hung up.

The issuing bank was Commerce Bank -- somewhat common in the midwest, and with some branches/locations in Wichita, but none in Newton (which, really, wouldn't help me that much anyway as I don't have an account with them).

"They're making me mail this fucking check to you for deposit," I told my mother upon calling her. "It cannot be cashed anywhere except at the issuing bank, and the only other way I can get the money out of it otherwise is to deposit it into an account."

Yes, my mother found this as ridiculous as I did, especially once I explained the situation to her fully, including the whole "no direct deposit option whatsoever" for checks of this type, and the fact that the payroll people specifically told me I could cash it at a grocery store or Walmart. My mother follows the blog, and it's not like I don't email back and forth with her every few days, so she knows the long, absolutely stress-filled battle I've been waging back and forth, back and forth, just to get paid and have any access whatsoever to my money. I've been teaching now for almost a month, was supposed to have been paid not once but twice by this point, and I have $129 to my name that I can't use for anything because it's the only actual money I have to pay bills with, and it's not enough to cover all of them -- and I'm still fighting to get access to my money somehow.

She told me she'd watch for the check and drop it into my account the same day it arrived. It went out in the mail to her on Friday, as by the time all of this was done on Thursday afternoon the mail had already come and gone for the day. At the earliest, it'll probably arrive in West Virginia on Tuesday or Wednesday. That's yet another week I've had/will have to wait after even receiving said check in my hands for me to be able to use it and have access to it. I'd already checked and double-checked everything with my bank, which (apparently) has yet to leap into the 21st century of deposits-by-phone or deposits-by-online-banking. I had no other option but to just mail it and hope for the best. 

Naturally, I was in a bit of a sour mood. I wanted all of this to be over, taken care of, and completely done before the weekend, so that Daisy and I could fully relax and enjoy our Valentine's Day together. I planned to keep about $100 out of the paycheck in cash to use to treat us to a movie and get us our necessary groceries and the like so that she wouldn't have to do anything for us -- after all, she had wired me money twice over the past month so that I could cover the bare minimum of my bills and rent, and she had already brought down groceries and some cooking supplies anyway. I'm so sick of being poor and being unable to do anything not only for myself, but for us, especially when she takes the time and gasoline to come down here to visit for a few days. I do not like being feeble, useless, or feeling like a mooch who needs someone else to support him and survive. I am a very independent person -- I do feel, and have always felt, as if it is a personal failing on my part when/if I can't do or provide what I feel is required from me. While I myself am a very gracious, charitable person, I don't want to be in need of help myself. I don't think anybody does, really, but (as you may know) I have a complex about it, and it's something I struggle with. A lot.

Daisy understands. She knows how stressed out I've been about this, and how hard it is for me to just let someone (even her) do for me. I have my strange habits and quirks. I have my failings as well as my positives. She understands. She knows that a lot of this is out of my hands and out of my control, and doesn't expect me to be able to magically fix it when I can't. She's supportive of me, she's caring and endlessly loving, and more patient with me and my situation than anyone else I've ever known, even to a fault. This is why I'm marrying her, and one of the many reasons I knew she was the one. To put it bluntly, no one else but her has understood, cared, or has ever had patience enough to deal with my shit.

"I'll take care of the movie and dinner tonight," she said, letting me bury my face in her collarbone. "Don't worry about it. Let me do it."

I nodded into her neck. I no longer had the words or the ability to deal with any other setbacks or problems at this point. I just wanted everything troubling me to end, to go away. It was Daisy time. Problems and issues are supposed to stop when she's here. That's how it works. I'm supposed to be able to let it all go and just be with her, and I usually can. My stress and my anger with the whole pay situation had reached critical mass, and while I didn't (and wouldn't) take it out on her, because I'm not the kind of person to deflect things that way, I had nowhere to put it but to let it go as much as possible. Once the check was in the mail to my mother, sealed in its envelope and sent off on its travels cross-country, there's nothing else I could do.

Of course, it also didn't help that I'd barely slept on Wednesday night at all, and had gone to and from campus to teach as well to and from three different stores/places around town trying to cash this check and get groceries for dinner before all of this. I was burnt out. I was a ball of stress and worry. I was exactly what I didn't want to be when she was here.

Once I was able to compose myself and calm myself down a bit (read: let things go as much as possible), we put on our coats and left for the movie theater. Daisy got it all -- the matinee tickets and the popcorn/sodas -- and we went to see The Lego Movie. We went at the right time -- aside from us, there were only five other people in the theater: a family with three kids, sitting about three or four rows down from us.

Go. Go now. Go see The Lego Movie. Seriously. It's fantastic. Best animated film I've seen since Wreck-It Ralph. It's smart, cute, funny, and well-written -- and contains so many great lines/references that to catch them all, you'll have to see it multiple times. I thought I would like it, yes, but I didn't realize I'd like it as much as I did. Is it a kids' movie? Sort of. Not entirely; not anywhere close to entirely. There are many things kids will love, yes, but there are just as many gags and references that only people my age or older will fully "get" and find absolutely hilarious -- especially if you're nerdy. We both really liked it, and have both been singing one of the songs (well, the only song in the movie; I won't spoil it for you) endlessly for the past several days.

Once the movie was over, Daisy wasn't feeling well. She started feeling sick throughout the movie, but was okay until it was over. We'd planned to go home and cook dinner, but she progressively started feeling worse and worse, looking pale and uncomfortable and, well, sickly. She'd still been a bit shaken up over her minor car accident the night before, and attributed how she felt to stress, allergies, stomach issues, and her switching her sleep schedule around to come down here. When we got home, she was feeling so bad that she just wanted to go to bed.

"If I get up later and you want to do dinner, we can," she said. "But I really, really need to lay down right now."

Neither of us were hungry after downing tubs of popcorn, of course -- something that we always tend to forget when we go to the movies.

"I'll probably just come downstairs and join you in a little while and sleep all night," I said, "since I barely slept at all last night."

The movie had been at 4:30, and we were home before 7. She went to bed. I stayed up for a while to let her get comfortable and sleep, especially when she was feeling so bad, and played a game for a bit on the computer. I was beginning to feel really tired myself after a while, so I made a sandwich to put something on my stomach other than popcorn, and by 8PM I couldn't sit up straight in my chair without beginning to doze off. I turned everything off and went downstairs to sleep, taking my DS and mp3 player with me (but not really needing them, as I was passed out in about twenty minutes).

I don't really know what happened next; I know that at some point, Daisy got up and came upstairs again before coming back to bed, as when I got up, she was still in bed with me at 6AM but had used Facebook in the overnight hours. She told me later that she'd gotten up for about three hours because she awakened and couldn't go back to sleep, so she'd watched three episodes of some show on Netflix on her phone and had gotten something to eat before she went back to bed. I got up early, and about two hours later, she got up again.

And that was only the first day of our time together....

Black Friday, Part I

Spring semester: day nineteen

Okay. Well. It hasn't been the best week.


Before I go any further, I want to mention that yes, even though over the course of the past ten years I have only been single on Valentine's Day for one of them, I am still not a huge fan of the "holiday" overall due to its commercialism and somewhat halfhearted (pun intended) way of saying "this is the day you show your love to that special someone!" No, if you have a "special someone," you'd better be showing that love to them every day or it won't be long before you no longer have a "special someone." It took me a long time and lots of growing up over the years before I fully realized this. But, as I still loathe the commercialism/consumerism involved, I will always refer to Valentine's Day as "Black [day of the week]" in honor of not only that, but in honor of those friends and family members who have, over the years, been betrayed and/or wounded by the act of love, or who have lost loved ones.

My own Valentine's Day, obviously, is a bit more significant than just being a commercial "holiday" draped in pink and red hearts -- one year ago today, I proposed to Daisy. I'm sure most of you are aware of this, of course, as it's not like we really made it a secret or anything. I proposed in my kitchen, in front of the stove, after giving her a blue plastic vase full of daisies (what else?) with the ring holding them together. It was sweet. Not a whole lot has changed in our relationship since then. I already view Daisy as my wife; I have for some time now. She is always the first thing on my mind when I wake up in the morning, and is usually the last person I talk to or think about when I go to bed at night. This is, obviously, to be expected.

Right now, Daisy is still asleep downstairs in bed, with at least two (if not all three) of the cats. We had a stressful, eventful day yesterday plagued with problems and worries big and small. Because of this, I'm going to let her sleep as long as she needs to sleep, and we'll take care of whatever we want to do for the day once she gets up. I've already been awake for about two hours. Why? Well, we'll get to that.

Let's start from the beginning.

Yesterday morning, I got up, came upstairs, and wrote my last post here. Daisy woke up for a few minutes, long enough to go to the bathroom and give me a kiss, before she went back downstairs to bed. When I left the house at about 8AM, she was passed out on the bed like a starfish, in deep sleep. Pete was sleeping between her knees, and Maggie was sleeping next to her head and shoulders. Even though Daisy is normally a pretty deep sleeper, I try to be as quiet as possible if I have to leave the house to teach when she's asleep, since most times she'll just sleep through the entire time I'm gone until I get back home.

I got to West campus and taught my morning 102 class normally and without incident; it was a pretty straightforward lesson on finding and evaluating research sources for accuracy, lack of bias, and reliability. Boring? Yes, probably, but it's stuff my students both old and new need to know for the parameters of their 102 assignments, to know what I (as well as the University) expects from them in their research. Most, if not all, of them are pretty on-the-ball with this stuff, so I doubt I'll have any real problems when their first papers roll in two weeks from now. However, only one of them (of twelve) had read the companion reading for the class, so I had to postpone covering that until Tuesday. I'm not covering something in class they haven't read, obviously, as it would be a waste of breath and we'd have no classroom discussion about it -- they'd just stare at me like idiots.

I came home, very quietly unlocked the door and entered the house, and found the bed empty and Pete sitting on the floor staring at me. Daisy had gotten up at some point, which was rather unusual for her (she's only not slept through my morning gone to school once before). I went upstairs to find that she was not only awake, but she was fully dressed, had straightened her hair -- something that takes a long time for her to do, as her hair is naturally very curly -- and put on makeup, had eaten already, and had been waiting for me. Apparently she woke up when I left the house to go teach, and realized when she heard me start my car that I was leaving, not coming home. While I was teaching, she posted this on Facebook:

I'm looking out the window wondering when the center of my universe is going to get home.

Yes folks, I've become one of Brandon's cats.

I felt bad, of course, that my leaving had awakened her instead of her waking naturally, and that she just basically had to wait on me for well over two hours before I got back home. Even though the Monte Carlo is loud in her comings and goings, Daisy usually sleeps right through everything.

We had a big day planned, obviously. Well, big for us, anyhow. I needed to go get my paycheck cashed and figure out how I was going to get the money into my bank account, via Western Union or other means, then we needed to get the rest of the groceries and foodstuffs for our home-cooked meals for the next two days, and finally, we were planning to go see a movie in the afternoon -- it was narrowed down to either the Robocop remake or The Lego Movie. So, yeah, we had a list of stuff to do.

After settling down at home for a bit and decompressing with her, we got ready to go and left the house again with my paycheck in tow to get it cashed, going to Walmart. I chose Walmart first, obviously, because I've had all sorts of other checks cashed there over the years (most notably, my tax refund checks) and because I wanted to check to see if MoneyGram could wire funds directly to a bank account. After reading the form, apparently they can, but it doesn't say on the form how to do it or leave any space for account numbers and the like. So, we decided that I'd just cash the check at Walmart and take the money to Dillon's, where they do Western Unions and I know money can be sent to my account that way.

So I went through the drill of cashing the check there; they take your ID and SSN, match everything to the name on the check, etc, and run it through. And then the lady looked at me blank-faced and dead-eyed and said "We can't cash this check."

"Why not?" I asked.

"I don't know. Here's the receipt it printed out; you'll have to call the Certegy people to figure out why."

Certegy is a check-verification company that places like Walmart use as a go-between when checks are cashed there to verify the amount is correct, the check's not a forgery or has fake numbers on it, and to verify that it's being cashed by the right person, amongst other things. If anything comes up strange in the system, Certegy flags it and won't let you (or Walmart, or anywhere else that uses it) cash the check.

"That's really weird," I told Daisy. "It's not like it's a fake check or anything like that, it's a check from the university. It has all the numbers and info on it, it's got all the security features, my address and name match...everything's there. And it's not like I'm not in Walmart's check-cashing system anyway, 'cause I cash my tax refund checks here."

"Well, we have to go to Dillon's anyway, right?" Daisy asked. "That's where the Western Union is, and we have to get the stuff for the dip."

Daisy is making her famous spinach artichoke dip for us tonight for part of our Valentine's Day dinner, and Dillon's is the only place in town that sells the vegan sour cream and vegan cream cheese she uses to make it. She can get it anywhere in Omaha, but here it's just at Dillon's.

"Right," I said. So we went to Dillon's...who also uses the same system as Walmart, and who also couldn't cash my check.

"I can't tell you why it won't go through," the helpful lady at the counter there said, "but I can tell you that there's no problem with the account numbers or your SSN -- those are fine. I hope you can get it cashed somewhere."

"Me too," I told her, forcing a smile and thanking her. I mean, it wasn't her fault.

By this point I was very pissed off. Yes, I'd finally gotten paid, but couldn't actually get the money out of the check -- it was like trying to squeeze blood out of a stone, the stone being the university in this instance.

"I'm sorry, baby," Daisy said, as she is able to tell when I am really angry and am holding it in for the sake of us being in public. "I know how frustrating this must be."

"This is fucking bullshit," I mumbled to her, quietly. "It's not a fake check, the numbers are there and correct and everything's verified; that woman told me as much -- it's a payroll check just like any other payroll check or any other check I would cash someplace. There's no reason I shouldn't be able to cash it."

This was very frustrating for me, as you could probably imagine. I've been battling with the university for over three weeks now just to get paid, just to get my money, just to even get access to my money. I've been given runaround after runaround, setback after setback. Now that I finally have a paycheck in my hands, I can't even get the money out of it, and it's basically become as useless as any other piece of paper.

We had to go to both Dillon's stores for the stuff we needed for the dip, because the first one didn't have the sour cream and cream cheese (which was my fault, really, as I forgot that the south store didn't). I was sort of zoned out the entire time, just awash with anger and frustration, because always, always, if it's not one thing, it's another. All I wanted was for this one thing to go right so that I could just have the money that was rightfully mine, that I've waited almost a month now to get, that I desperately need to pay my bills.

We got the stuff we needed and came home, and I was still angry. I didn't take it out on Daisy -- she was trying to be as helpful and as sweet as possible, as she always is -- but I was ready to punch something or someone. I wanted to call the payroll office and scream at them because they'd given me a check that was basically useless to me, and had provided no way for me to get the money out of it because they have no sort of direct deposit set up for these kinds of checks and no way, no how I could do that.

"Just call the number they gave you and see what they tell you," Daisy told me. "Maybe it's something simple in their system they can fix over the phone and clear it."

Busy Times, Part II

Spring semester: day eighteen

I don't feel well.

A big part of this is that last night, I once more dealt with a crippling bout of insomnia. I was exhausted, but I just couldn't sleep. Like, really couldn't. Not even with Daisy here. I'd doze off for ten or fifteen minutes at a time before I'd wake back up, completely wide-awake again. The cats aren't a great help in this scenario either, as with the three of them alone they sleep in the most awkward positions and places on the bed as it is, and with the three of them and Daisy here, they pick the worst places possible to try to sleep. They mean well, of course -- they just want to sleep with us and be with us, and I know that, but it can still be a pain in the ass at times. One time during the night, I awoke to find Pete sleeping between our heads, with the top of his head against my chin and his nose pressing into my beard and neck. Make no mistake -- this is fucking adorable -- but this is just one example of the bizarre places the cats sleep when Daisy is here as well.

I eventually fell asleep for good at some point. I don't know when, but it wasn't for longer than about two hours at the most. Monday and Wednesday nights are rough for me, and Wednesdays much more so because I teach at night, then have to get up early again in the morning to go back in and teach again. At least on Mondays, if I know I'm going to have trouble sleeping, I can take a sleeping pill and go to bed before it's dark outside. On Wednesday nights I don't have that option -- it's more like "get home from class, eat quickly, go to bed."

Of course, last night wasn't the typical Wednesday night, either, since Daisy was coming down.

As I wrote yesterday, Daisy planned to leave the house and time it so that she arrived here around the same time I got home from my night class, which would allow us to be able to eat a quick dinner and then we could go to bed at the same time. This is important, as regardless of what time she arrived, I still had to go to bed and be able to get enough sleep to get back up this morning without issue to teach my morning 102 class. She turned around her sleeping schedule this week so that she could sleep at night with me, as she knew that two of the 3.5 days she was going to be here would be days that I'm teaching (that's just her schedule vs. my schedule; not much can be done about that). However, since she operates on Daisy Standard Time, as predicted, she left the house late -- around 6PM. This meant that at the earliest, she wouldn't get here until about 11PM. Throw in unpacking and putting away groceries (which she always brings) and cooking something for dinner, and I was looking at not getting to bed until around 1...when I get up at 5.

As a brief aside, people ask me why I get up so early in the morning when I don't usually have to, and I tell them the truth: it's because I physically need that time to get up and actually be awake. I'm not one of those people who can roll out of bed, throw on clothes and jump in the car, and I never have been. I'm near-constantly sleep-deprived, and when I have to wake up in an unnatural way (such as by an alarm clock or what have you) it is a shock to my system. My brain needs time, coffee, and cigarettes to wake up. That's just how I work. Once my brain is awake and I have enough caffeine in me to force my body to function and go about its daily tasks -- something my body in no way wants to do naturally -- only then can I make it through the day without wanting to kill myself or someone else. This is why, on my days off, I can and will sleep for twelve hours straight sometimes, especially if I'm under a lot of stress/pressure and/or it's really cold outside. Both of those scenarios have been constants as of late, as you know.

Anyway. She apologized, of course, and I told her it was fine -- but that I would absolutely be eating something before she got here, because I hadn't eaten anything all day and wasn't going to wait until after midnight to have my only meal of the day. She said that was understandable, and got something to eat as well. I told her I'd wait up for her regardless, as I knew (and I was right) that she'd have her suitcase, the cooler with cold groceries, and bags upon bags of other stuff to bring into the house as well, and that she'd need my help to get it all inside.

With that, I got a shower and got dressed, and half-begrudgingly went to class. I was already tired for the day -- Tuesday, as you know, had been really long, and I don't remember what time I went to bed on Tuesday night. I'd slept until around noon or so yesterday, but even though I woke up naturally, it still wasn't enough. So, even for many of my waking hours yesterday, I was somewhat out-of-it. 

Class was fine; I hadn't taught my 210 students in two weeks, as you know, since last week the school shut down because of the snow (and rightfully so). The lesson plan for last night was pretty simple -- collect the two assignments they'd been saving for me and give them their next one, show them the topics and how to do it/what I expect from them for it (it's a "business letter"), and then dismiss. Those students are cool, they're on-the-ball, and they're nice. In that class, I make no bones about how simple and straightforward the work is, and what they need to do for it. The books, the assignments, and my lesson plans lay it all out on the table for them. Many different majors require English 210 because it's so versatile and useful in many different fields -- all of the business majors, criminal justice majors, accounting majors, etc have to take it -- and there are a ton of those students at the university, so it's not like the class will ever have a shortage of students. I guarantee you that if I taught that class on the main campus this semester, I'd have a full 25 instead of 8.

Anyway. Since the class is so simple to teach and it lays their work out for them quite easily, it's always a breeze -- in and out in about an hour, even when the class is scheduled to be almost three hours long. I've always told my students in all of my classes (but especially the night classes, and even more especially the night classes on West campus, where most of the students are non-traditional older students and are coming straight from work -- the classic "night school" stereotype) that I will never keep them in a classroom any longer than all of us need to be there -- I'm not the guy who will stand in the front of the room just to hear himself talk in order to fill time for three hours. No, if I've covered everything I need to cover for the day, and they've been given their assignment? We're done. I always use the phrase "my time is just as valuable as yours." Could I, if I wanted to, stand up there and read out of the book on how to craft/write the perfect business letter or memo or cover letter or what have you for three hours? Sometimes, maybe, I could. But telling students, some of them who are old enough to be my parents, how to write a business letter when most of them already work in a business field or an office setting anyway, and have been quite familiar with it for most of their professional lives? It's needless. Last night's class lasted forty minutes, and from the work I collected and glanced at as I collected it, these students do indeed know what they're doing and how to do it. I spent more time driving to and from campus than I did in front of the room. Usually it's about the same, or a little more skewed to time in front of the room. For the first half of 210, however, the class is pretty much on autopilot -- turn in your last assignment, here's your new one, here's how to do it, it's due next week, see you then.

I was not expecting, however, the messages I received when I returned home:

Um so I'm fine but I'm going to die earlier I was almost in a car wreck I just called my mother solving I'll tell you about it when I see you I'm fine I'm driving still love you

From Daisy. Shortly after I left the house. WTF. This was followed by another message from her shortly before I got back:

Take two: I'm in York now. I was using talk to text earlier. I got shaken up earlier and called my mom bawling is what I meant to say-- I miscalculated, went up over the medium, hit a pole, and spun my car.

My neck and muscles hurt.

I'm fine though.

I hope class went okay.

Love.

I didn't really know how to respond to that. Daisy's a good driver -- I've spent countless hours in the car with her over the almost two years we've been together now, to the point where she's the only person where I'd feel comfortable letting drive me someplace while I napped in the passenger seat (I don't nap in the car, but you get what I'm saying). Like me, she'd never had a car accident. But getting messages like that obviously sends me into a bit of panic mode, seeing as I've never had a car accident, but I've been in two or three (mostly) minor ones over the years, and, y'know, I know many people who have been killed in car accidents, including my sister.

I told her I was glad she was okay and asked if the car was damaged at all, as she drives a really nice, relatively new Hyundai (relatively is the keyword here, as my Monte Carlo is eighteen years old). She lost her passenger side mirror somehow, though she thinks it was there when she checked over the car after the incident, so she thinks it fell off while she was driving. Other than that, aside from a dented and slightly bent front license plate and very minor bending/scrapes on the lower part of the car's grille, there's not a mark or blemish anywhere else on the car. I looked myself once she got here around midnight or so. I told her that she was really lucky that the pole she hit (which was one of those mile-marker-like metal poles that have reflectors on them in the median for better visibility for drivers) didn't fly up and damage the lights, the windshield, take out her oil pan or anything else like that on the car. She said Dad asked her if she was leaking any fluids and had her check, and she didn't think she was.

"If you were leaking any fluids," I said, "you more than likely wouldn't have made it here, because they would've run dry or run low enough to put all the dashboard warning lights on in the car to let you know."

I'm sort of an expert on leaking or burning off fluids in a car, since the Monte Carlo burns through a quart of oil or so every two months, roughly, and even when the tank and radiator are completely full, the "low coolant" light is always on in my car when it's really cold or really hot outside. The Monte Carlo leaks oil a bit as well, though not all the time -- again, it's old. If its engine gets warm enough and there's enough coolant in the radiator to hit the overflow valve, it'll drip a little antifreeze occasionally as well. It used to do both a lot worse before I had all the work done to it.

More than that, with the way she told the story, I think it's remarkable she didn't blow out a tire, bend an axle, throw off her alignment, or even throw a wheel cover. She doesn't know how the mirror came off, or how she struck the pole to make it come off, but I told her on newer cars like hers, the mirrors are breakaway mirrors anyhow -- they're designed to come off cleanly if they're hit. My car's not like that. If something takes off my mirror, I need an entirely new door panel (since it's attached).

"I've just never misjudged a distance like that before," she said. "I don't know what happened. I was up in the median, and I felt the car tip up and I was hitting the pole and..." she trailed off. "That car has really good handling."

She's right, it does.  So smooth.

"Sometimes these things happen, babe," I said. "Nobody's perfect. Your car probably 'tipped up,' and it has good handling because...well, it's light. It's a newer car. Most of its body panels, bumpers, etc...they're molded plastic. My Monte Carlo, since it's old, is all steel. All of it, with the exception of the bumpers and the spoiler. Its dry weight, without any gas or fluids or anything in it? 3,330 pounds. That's more than a ton and a half, love. Your car doesn't weigh anything near that. It's a feather in comparison."

Of course, after I said that, this morning I did a search on the dry weight of her exact car -- same model, same year -- because I was curious...and it was 3,292 pounds. So maybe there's more metal in that car than I thought. Far be it from me not to admit when I'm wrong.

She was pretty shaken up, obviously. I don't blame her; I would have been too. We got all of her stuff inside and put away the groceries, then almost immediately went to bed. It was probably 1AM before we even got downstairs to go to bed, though I don't exactly remember; while I was physically exhausted, I was quite mentally awake...which is why I fought my insomnia (mostly unsuccessfully) all night long.

The weather is changing too, obviously. Slowly but surely, anyway. It was 37 yesterday afternoon, and sunny -- a lot of the snow and ice began melting off. Today it's supposed to be about ten degrees warmer, and by the weekend it's going to be in the high 50s and low 60s again. Of course, when the weather changes, it sets my allergies off, and I end up spending most of the day coughing, sneezing, and nose-blowing.

While Daisy is downstairs sleeping now (she came upstairs briefly when I got up) and will sleep through my class this morning, we have a somewhat long and/or interesting day ahead of us once I return home from West campus...regardless of how tired I may be. Normally on Thursdays, I'll come home, eat something, and go back to bed. I can't do that today; today, we have to go deal with my paycheck stuff and pick up some grocery items. I'm going to cash my check first (because, regardless of what I do with it otherwise, it still needs to be cashed) and then we're going to try the Western Union thing. I'll check MoneyGram at Walmart to see if they can send money directly to a bank account like Western Union can, but if they can't, I'll just use Western Union and see if I can do it that way. Then, this afternoon, we're planning to go on our "movie date" for Valentine's Day, doing it today to beat the rush of people who would do it tomorrow, before having a quiet romantic dinner at home tonight.

No, we don't yet know what movie we're going to see. As much as I'd love to go see the Robocop remake, I doubt she'd be into it.

"All I want to do on Valentine's Day is cuddle," she told me last night. I'm fine with that. Aside from making a meal, that's all that's really on the docket for tomorrow anyway.

As for her replacement engagement ring, it has not arrived yet. Today's the first day of the "estimated delivery" date for it, though that doesn't really mean anything. I still don't have tracking for it, so we wait.

Apparently, Dad sent down a ton of pants in my size for me to see if I wanted them -- he's lost weight and they're too big for him, but no matter how much weight I've gained or lost over the years, I've always had the same waist size in pants since I was in middle school -- 42. Hell, I still own and wear some pants I bought in middle school/high school, especially a few pairs of shorts I bought during that time. I have a remarkable amount of clothing from my younger years that I still wear; for example, today I'm teaching in my Eagles "Hotel California" t-shirt...which my mother bought me for my 18th birthday. I turn 32 this year. So, I'll look through Dad's pants and see what I find; whatever I don't want or need will be donated to charity anyhow, and (ironically) today I'm already wearing a pair of shoes the man gave me over Thanksgiving when I was up in Omaha.

So, on that note, I bid you good folks adieu until my next post. I have to finish getting ready, as I'll leave the house in about half an hour (quietly, mind you). I'll let you know what happens with the paycheck thing and what movie we go see.

Busy Times, Part I

Spring semester: day seventeen

For the next few days I'll be sort of swamped with stuff to do, both personal and school-related. Most of it started yesterday, of course, with my week.

First of all, I wanted to mention that all local roads, with the exception of my untreated/unplowed neighborhood, are now completely clear and dry. This includes Wichita and Newton roads/streets and the interstate. It was a night and day difference between my shopping trip on Saturday and yesterday when I went to class, which was a pleasant surprise -- apparently the road treatment crews heard the public's outcry and actually did something. Travel yesterday was fine. Parking in the lot on campus, however, was another story -- while the parking lots were plowed, they were by no means clear, and you still couldn't see the lines for spaces, so people were just parking anywhere and everywhere. Some lanes were closed off completely, the cycle parking area was full of cars, people were crooked as hell, etc. I was lucky enough to arrive on campus around 7:20 and get a spot that looked to be in line with most other people parking there then -- straight and within some semblance of the hidden lines on the pavement, hopefully -- with an easy pull-out when I left last night that wouldn't leave me trapped or blocked off by idiots parking any which way they could. The parking lots were still slick/packed ice, much like many sidewalks, but as the grounds crews were salting everything they could yesterday and the sun actually came out, a lot of that melted or cleared up throughout the daytime hours.

I did pick up my paper paycheck yesterday with little issue -- it's a large check (in amount, I mean) and is about what I expected it to be. Daisy and I will figure out what to do with it tomorrow once I'm done with my teaching in the morning. I was also pleasantly surprised to find, in my mailbox at the university, my teaching contract officially titling/appointing me an "Academic Lecturer" for this semester, with my pay amount on it -- which I had to sign and return to the office of the vice president via campus mail. The contract is very similar to the one I had to sign and send off when I was a GTA. I have a copy of it for my own records, as well. I probably shouldn't mention to anyone that last semester I was never given a contract of this sort, at all, by the university -- and I still got paid and still taught, obviously. I guess the college of arts and sciences noticed that and wanted to correct the fly-by-night nature of everything there.  But, regardless, I have now been paid, and I am now officially under contract by the university, so that's a plus, right?

My classes yesterday went fine, even though I was completely burned out and exhausted by the evening. My 102s, as I mentioned before, did their "Library Day" activity yesterday, and I only had one absence for that class (too bad for him; he missed out on 30 points). Most of them got a lot out of it, which is the reason I do it. As much as a pain in the ass the library activity can be for some classes (especially for classes that meet on the West campus), they do get a lot out of it and it's incredibly beneficial to the class as a whole. And I had to be on main campus all day after their class anyway, so why not kill two birds with one stone, right? Tomorrow, back in the normal classroom on West, they'll have a fairly short class where we cover a few little things out of the book, and then we're done for the week.

My 011 night class last night went mostly fine as well, and rather quickly at that --  I covered two different readings in the book, assigned journal topics for them, and then held rough-draft conferences with my students who actually had drafts and wanted me to look them over (read: not many). Sadly, the ESL students in my class seem completely lost -- the two of them who wanted to talk to me could barely even speak English, and the "drafts" they wanted me to look at had nothing at all to do with the assignment I'd given them. I can't help that; English 011 isn't a class that teaches you how to speak or understand English; that's already an assumption. It's a class that teaches you how to write basic (very basic) academic essays in preparation for the higher level composition courses. If they don't understand what the assignment is because they don't understand English or don't understand the directions, there is very, very little I can do to help them. I feel bad about that, of course, but that's just not the class I teach. I may as well be teaching the class in Chinese or Swahili at that point -- some of them, sadly, will not get anything out of the assignments or class discussions either way, and there's only so much I can do as their professor.

That class's papers are due next week when we come back; I doubt I'll even get papers from half of them, really. I will say this, however -- several of the ESL students write very well (considering, anyhow) and can follow the assignments and my directions just fine. There's about seven or eight of them, however, who just seem completely lost and/or glazed over, looking at me with that "why am I here and what are you telling me to do, because I can't understand you" gaze. And that's troubling when the class only has nineteen students.

"Do you think you'll get bad evaluations?" one of my friends asked me, when I explained the situation to her.

"I don't think most of them will last long enough in the course to give me evaluations," I replied. "They'll either fail, not do their work, stop showing up, or simply drop the course before we even get to that point. I can't teach them how to speak or understand English -- all I can do is guide them on how to write it, and write it in an academic fashion. Even 011 is a writing class, not a 'pick up a new language and run with it' class."

I will have to talk to the 011 director next week, if she's there and in the department when I am, about whatever plan of actions I can take -- but, once again, I can't really make the class any more basic than it is. All college classes in all universities in America assume that the students can at least understand English and follow directions. It's not like I can teach the class in a different language any more than they can learn English to be able to follow along. I'm at a loss in this scenario.

Of course, I still have a lot to do between now and tomorrow morning, even -- I teach my 210s tonight, and collect their first two assignments from them (because we missed last week), and give them their third. It shouldn't be an incredibly long class, but it will take a bit of time.

"What time do you get home?" Daisy asked me last night.

"Depends heavily on how long the class takes," I told her. "It won't be a really long class tonight, but I still have stuff to cover. I could be home anytime between 8:30 and 9:30, really."

As you know, Daisy will be arriving here tonight so that we can spend Valentine's Day together. She's leaving this afternoon, and will get here around the time I get home from class (roughly, anyway), which is why she was asking. She's trying to plan her trip so that she doesn't get here before me and have to wait for me to get home, and so that I don't have to wait hours on her once I do (since I still need to go to bed fairly quickly after I get home and get up early in the morning to go teach my morning class again). We'll have a quick dinner, and then we'll go to bed -- and she'll basically sleep through my morning class tomorrow before I get back home and we start our day.

In the meantime I have to shower this afternoon and prep for my classes tonight and tomorrow morning -- I won't have any time otherwise to do so -- and if I have any extra time, take care of a few minor things around the house that, thinking forward, I probably won't have time to do regardless so I may as well abandon those plans now.

Daisy's replacement ring shipped on Monday, though I don't know where it is or when it will get here; the earliest arrival estimates are tomorrow, and unlike most other things I purchase online, there's no tracking available for it. It could get here today, or it could get here three days after she leaves for home. I've gotten some stuff (without tracking) very quickly, and other stuff takes forever, so really it's a toss-up at this point. I can't do much about it either way now, obviously.

On the plus side, the house is less of a mess than it usually is, since I vacuumed over the weekend and tried to clean some stuff up, but in the three or four days since, especially with my classes resuming their normal schedule again, I haven't and won't be able to do upkeep-like stuff on anything before Daisy arrives tonight, or even after she leaves (for the most part); as I mentioned, I'm going to be swamped with tasks and things to do over the next several days -- I'm collecting those first two assignments from my 210s tonight, I have to figure out my paycheck stuff, there's Daisy and our Valentine's Day stuff/shopping/meals/movie, etc. She'll be here until at least Saturday afternoon, so I won't even get to work on most of my student stuff until then, let alone any other cleaning/upkeep/house stuff/bills or the like. However, at least it's supposed to get progressively warmer and nicer every day for the next week or so -- today it's 37 (about 20 degrees warmer than yesterday) and I can hear the snow melting and dripping off the house. By a week from today it's supposed to be almost 70 again, which, believe me, is quite welcome after the month we've had so far. I am so sick of wearing layers upon layers every time I leave the house just to be able to feel all of my extremities. For the past several drives I've made in the car (whether to campus or to get groceries or otherwise), it's been so cold that even inside the car, I can barely feel my fingers or toes while driving -- and that's with gloves on, shoes on, and two pairs of socks underneath those shoes.

So, on that note, I must leave you folks -- I need to take that aforementioned shower and prep for those aforementioned classes. With Daisy here, I may not have time to write again until the weekend, though I will keep you updated on things as much as possible.

The Week Begins

Spring semester: day fifteen

No, the university didn't close, but a lot of school systems around the area did, especially as it's barely in the teens outside, and instead of the "2 to 3 inches" of snow we were supposed to get, Wichita got four and I got about five. I think with less than a day's notice with the weather forecasts, 4-5 inches of new snow across most of the area is something significant, is it not? That sounds like something that we should be warned about a few days in advance, not 12 hours in advance and then have the forecast change for the worse three times in those 12 hours.

Of course, the public is outraged, because we live in a society where that's a thing now. But, they're mainly outraged because nobody's treating the roads properly. Anywhere, apparently.

...yes, because most people with a brain and a basic sense of chemistry know that. But, I bet the fucking snowplows still work. And apparently, that's the problem -- they're not sending out the snowplows anywhere. Or, if they are, they're not actually plowing things the way they're supposed to be. I've read numerous reports all over Facebook and Twitter that are basically all saying the same thing -- plows are driving around with their plows up, not doing anything. Or they're all just out wandering the area or lounging about in parking lots, the drivers doing little more than talking to each other.

And this after I read a news story that says the snow removal crews are working 12-hour days to get the streets clear. Well, they're certainly not doing that up here in Newton, and from most reports I see they're not actually working to do it in Wichita, so...what are they doing?

Friends and coworkers say the parking lots on campus are an absolute disaster area -- lines and spots can't even be seen, so people are just parking wherever they can. That is a serious problem with the parking issues the campus already has. I'm guessing that they'll be plowing and re-treating the parking lots as much as possible in the overnight hours tonight, though, as tomorrow's home basketball game is sold out. Said game also starts at the same time my night class starts tomorrow night, at 7PM. I'll be arriving on campus by around 7:20 AM at the latest, and will actually get to park on the main campus for once this semester...but getting out to get home tomorrow night will be a nightmare in itself, especially if the campus streets and parking lots are still terrible, with all of the game commotion and traffic.

In other strange/interesting news, I got a phone call today from an unknown number -- they left a voicemail message for someone with the same last name as me, but not the first; they were looking for some guy named Roy. They said a "complaint had been filed" against this Roy person and that they needed to talk to him immediately because "actions are being taken" or something like that, and left a case number to reference with a callback number.

WTF? Okay. Well, I'm not Roy. I don't even know anyone named Roy. But I did do a number search on the callback number, and it's for some collections law firm in California. So, apparently, the number itself is legit (or they're using that firm's number as a front), though I doubt the call itself was -- even though there are no scam reports I could find based around that number. The guy on the phone said his name, though he didn't say the name of the company he worked for (big tip-off #1 to a scam call) and didn't reference anything the call was for other than "a complaint" (big tip-off #2) and the number they were calling from was an unknown number (huuuge tip-off there, so that makes #3). What's interesting about it is that my phone is prepaid and unlisted, and has a Missouri area code (I got the phone there in 2006, shortly after moving out here, and have always had the same number). I've also not made the number public anywhere, nor do I have anything in collections -- my student loans have been deferred until at least the next nine months or so (November, when unless I'm working a damned good job, I'll have to reapply), and while I have some credit card debt because I've been living on said cards, none of it is behind, and I pay my bills for them every month on time, even if I pay the minimum payment some months. I don't have a car payment or a cell phone bill, and all of my other bills are also paid on time as quickly as possible.

Plus, and here's the big thing -- I'm not Roy.

So -- it's either 1) a scam call using a legit callback number, 2) a legit call looking for someone named Roy who, by an amazing coincidence, has the last name as me, 3) someone who apparently has my number listed by a typo on a digit or call list for some reason, or -- in the most unlikely of scenarios -- 4) they are trying to reach me and got my first name wrong, or were reading the wrong line on their sheet.

Again, I don't have any outstanding debts or anything in collections, so the latter option is more than likely not the case, but it is indeed interesting. I've had plenty of calls over the years that have been wrong numbers, sometimes official-sounding people looking for other people (one time I got a call from some sheriff's office in Missouri leaving a message for some guy with a completely different name, saying his court date had been canceled for the day), but the fact that there's no scam reports for the callback number and that this Roy guy did indeed have my last name is, at the very least, sort of perplexing. Maybe that's their trick, though -- get you to call them back and say that you're not Roy, and then they run some huge charge up on your phone bill.

The number they left was an 855 number -- which, in my searches, I found out is a common toll-free number and could come from anywhere, but the one they gave me was for that collections law firm. In a little more research, I found stuff like this:

Seems to fit the same sort of call I received, about a "complaint" against Roy.  There's also this as well, though it wasn't in reference to the same number I was left:

This number is connected to a scam. Don't believe anything they say! It will seem real because somehow, someway, they know some of your personal info. They even have a fake automated system to make it seem real. They will seem to try to "settle" a debt with you, and steal your card number if you give it to them. You can scare them off if you ask a lot of questions. They will lie and say they mailed papers to you that were returned, threaten you with court, "legal talk", and anything else to get you to pay. DON'T FALL FOR IT! I'm too smart to fall for scams, but unfortunately some people are not.
They may call from a different number, or different area code, and leave a message telling you to call them back at [number]. Again, they have a good scam going. Seems believable. DON'T GIVE THEM ANY INFORMATION! The message will say they are calling from "Summary Services" or something of that nature.

 Some of my personal info? Yep, that fits the profile as well. Looks like this is a scam, folks, and apparently one that's getting better over time. These are just a few I've read -- believe me, there's more out there, all of them seeming to fit a similar profile, and including several people who have been called from "unknown" numbers like I was as well. They say stuff about scammers getting info from, or mentioning things like payday loans and the like (which, of course, I've never done). Some people are saying the numbers they're calling from have been spoofed or are for somewhere completely different than what they should be (one lady wrote that she looked up the number and it was for a Doctor's office). I'm wondering if this caller thought I'd just call back the "unknown" number and had the law firm's number in there in the message as a placeholder, or something -- since, obviously, he didn't say where he was calling from.

855 seems to be a toll free number. What is important to consider is that the receiving/paying party gets your phone number. With your phone number they can trace where you live; address, name etc. and with that they can run an internet search and get to your Facebook page, and anything else that you put on the net. With this they establish a profile and set you up for a scam, identity theft you name it. Be careful out there and NEVER wire any money to anybody. Tens of millions of dollars get scammed every year.

Interesting ruse there, I think. Anyway, after further research I'm not really concerned about it. I used to get scam or phone-spam calls all the time -- numbers from Washington and Oregon leaving cheesy messages about how I'd just won a cruise or something like that. There was a time where I was getting four or five of those calls a day, and how they got my number was unknown. Again, it's prepaid and unlisted -- not even T-Mobile really knows who I am or where I live, since it's prepaid. About the only people who have my number are friends and family, my bank, the school, and the utility/credit card companies who require a phone number. So yeah, not really concerned.

I've been reading more reports about the road conditions around the area and how, apparently, they are plowing some of them now. I guess the public's outrage did something after all. One of the news channels put up a poll on Facebook asking what letter grade the citizens of Wichita would give the snow removal crews, and the responses were -- overwhelmlingly so -- "D-" and "F." Despite this, the city has put out another press release that said they were now salting/sanding the roads again.

Stop salting, start plowing. It's really that simple. It's 18 degrees outside -- too cold for salt to really work effectively. It's supposed to be in the single digits tonight. The temperature isn't going to get above freezing until Wednesday, and while it's (apparently) going to be in the 50s and 60s all next week, salt doesn't help now. Getting the snow and ice pack off the roads with plows is what helps now. It'll melt on its own in several days, yes, and the salt will help when it's warmer outside, but right now, that's not the case.

My driveway was re-covered again with last night's snow; you now can't even see where the neighbor with the tractor plowed it out before because the new snow covers that completely. I'm fully expecting the roads to be terrible again in the morning when I leave, and on top of that I have to give myself even more extra time than usual (when I'm already leaving early anyway) because I need to get gas first. Temperatures in the high 50s and low 60s next week sounds like summer to me at this point. I desperately cannot wait to start wearing shorts, flip-flops, and t-shirts again, not just to teach in, but in general. If I didn't have to wear them all day long tomorrow, I'd wear my big boots -- but they are incredibly uncomfortable to drive and/or teach in, especially when I'd be stuck with them on my feet for about fourteen hours straight and would be doing a lot of walking all around campus (for, remember, I have to pick up my check tomorrow as well).

As I was typing that last sentence, I heard/felt a loud rumbling, and went out to the front window to see that the neighbor with the tractor has again plowed out all of our driveways -- and I can totally actually see the pavement, the street, that I haven't seen in the better part of a month due to the fact that in the winter, even when it's warm and/or sunny outside, my house is situated where direct sunlight will never hit 3/4 of my driveway or yard...so it can be 60 outside and beautiful, and there will still be a sheet of ice and/or snow covering part of my driveway and yard, at least for a while. It had just melted away completely from the last decent-sized snow in early January before these two new snows hit.

So that's what's going on right now. In the morning, I shall go to campus for my first 14-hour-or-so day in two weeks. I'll probably be exhausted by the time I get home tomorrow night. Tonight, since I've only needed to get up early once in the past, oh, ten days or so, I'll be taking a sleeping pill (in about three or four hours) to ensure I sleep all night and get back on a normal "teaching" sleeping schedule for the week, especially since I have to be alert enough and awake enough to leave the house about 80 minutes or so earlier than normal to ensure that I can actually get a parking space on main campus when I get there.

Headaches, Part III

A WINTER WEATHER ADVISORY REMAINS IN EFFECT UNTIL 8 AM CST MONDAY.
* TIMING... A BAND OF SNOW WILL DEVELOP OVER THE REGION AND SPREAD EASTWARD ACROSS KANSAS OVERNIGHT.
* SNOW ACCUMULATIONS... OF 1 TO 2 INCHES IS EXPECTED ACROSS MUCH OF THE ADVISORY AREA... HOWEVER A FEW LOCATIONS COULD SEE AMOUNTS UP TO 3 INCHES.

Because, of course, we need this on top of all of the snow that none of the road crews, apparently, can plow off the highways as-is.

No, it's not a lot. But it's an annoyance and a shitty start to a week that's going to be long enough for me as it is.

It's not doing anything now; it hasn't done anything all day. Yesterday, as I mentioned, it was spitting a few flurries when I went out to Walmart.  There's already too much snow for me to even attempt to get my garbage bins down to the road for a pickup tomorrow. None of this stuff is melting, at all. It's not been above freezing for a full week. I'll be surprised if the garbage trucks can even make their runs tomorrow anyway, since the residential streets are still a nightmare and aren't getting any better. And, obviously, if we get another 2-3 inches of snow, that's not going to make my trip down to campus and back on Tuesday any easier either, especially as I'll be returning home around 9PM or later...on the night of a home basketball game, at that.

Look, I have a decent schedule and a fair amount of free time this semester -- I'm not disputing that -- but apparently the celestial sacrifice I've had to make for that is week after week of terrible weather and paycheck issues. I'd say that at least I have my health and that my car is running fine, but knowing my luck I'd get sick and the Monte Carlo would blow its head gasket if I spoke those words aloud. I'm just sick of being under constant stress more than anything else. It's not even productive stress -- it's stress over shit that I can't control, and sadly, that's the stress that I'm most susceptible to. I find myself so constantly angry all the time about almost everything, because so little seems to go right or go in my favor. Yes, Daisy helped me pay my bills this month. That was very sweet/generous of her, and was the one good thing that's happened since...oh, the beginning of the semester, or so? Something like that. As I mentioned before, when one thing goes wrong, almost everything seems to go wrong in a sort of domino effect. First the payroll issues, then the snowstorm, then the continued payroll issues, then the administrator's resignation, and now more snow coming -- just to bring up some of the bigger things of the past three weeks or so.

I paid my electric and water bills tonight, and let me tell you, it was fucking depressing. I now have a little more than $100 to my name, period, before I pick up my paper paycheck (that I still have to figure out what I'm going to do with) on Tuesday. More than half of that check, once it gets into my bank account somehow, has to go to my rent in about two weeks, since I'm not getting paid on the 14th now. The rest of it will have to go towards covering the rest of my bills for the month as they come in -- one of my credit card bills has already arrived, and another is on its way. Once that check is in my bank account, one of my bigger problems will be solved for the moment, but that only opens the door for other ones to take its place.

I will get a few days of relative peace when Daisy arrives on Wednesday night. As I've mentioned before, when she's here, most of my problems and issues tend to melt away or go on hold, at least for a little while. And, of course, it's important that we spend Valentine's Day together. I just hope that my stresses, problems, and general sour attitude towards the world right now don't sully our time together. As you may recall, that sort of happened in the beginning of October when she was here, as she arrived two days after my sister died in a car crash, and almost immediately upon her arrival, I injured my eye with a pineapple (if you don't know the story already, please, don't ask -- it's embarrassing). I was under so much stress at the time and was so upset about anything and everything going on in my life that we ended up squabbling back and forth a lot while she was visiting. I don't want that to happen again -- it's not her fault my life sucks.

Despite all of this stuff going on, I'm not depressed -- I've been sleeping well, I've been eating well, and I've been going about my life. I'm not sure what I'm dealing with, however, can be defined as acceptance that my life is crap or not, but that's probably what it is more than anything else. I keep thinking that things will change, that my life won't suck as much in a month, six months, or a year, and so far that's never been proven true. Of course, six months from now I'll be married to Daisy, and a lot will be changing, so maybe this time around that will actually happen.

As I've been writing this post, it's begun snowing again. Hard. Hard enough to where the Weather Channel updated its forecast:

A steady snow will continue to fall through early morning. Cloudy with temperatures steady in the low teens. Winds NNE at 10 to 15 mph. Chance of snow 90%. Snowfall of 2 to 3 inches through 5:30am.

I'm very glad that I don't have to leave the house tomorrow. Another "2 to 3 inches" will put about 13-14 inches total on the ground here in Newton, and will completely re-snarl the roads even in the spots where they were okay, or even good, before. Christ, I am so done with winter. I'm totally at the point where I'm like "Okay, if it's going to keep snowing, at least snow a shitload so either I or the university can cancel classes."

Not that doing so helps my lesson planning any, of course.

I reworked and wrote out my lesson plans for the rest of the semester for my English 102 class on West campus. If all goes well, that class will end completely on May 1st, and that'll be the day they take their final -- a full week before the semester is supposed to end. This is because it's a small class, I can cover things in it relatively quickly and still give them enough time necessary to finish up all of their work, and because I've made workshops one day each instead of two days (again, due to how few of them I have). With the ability to set my final exam day/time whenever I want for classes on the West campus, this basically means I'll totally get an awesome break at the end of the semester when I need that time the most to finish up things and grade papers -- and with my 210 class scheduled to end on April 23, I won't have to go back to West campus again after May 1. The end of the semester is May 8. Finals week is the 10th through the 16th. I will only have one formal final exam to proctor over Finals Week, and that will be my 011 night class's exam -- which will be held on a different day/time than the normal exams (so I won't be on campus until that exam night).

I've structured my classes well in advance because of the hectic times of the end of the semester, and the fact that I'll be planning for the wedding and may be planning/packing to move out of this place shortly thereafter. Because of all of that extra stuff going on in the background, I need to maximize my time and keep everything as efficient as I possibly can starting, oh, directly after Spring Break.

April 23: 210 class ends with its Oral Presentations. No Final.
May 1: 102 class ends with its final exam.
May 6: 011 class ends until its final exam.
Sometime between May 12-16? Final exam given for 011. Grades posted ASAP after.

Look at the dates in-between -- I have a ton of time to get everything graded and finished and still prepare for the wedding and possible move. I'm collecting papers in the in-between times, of course, but with a schedule spaced out like that, I have more than enough time to grade them all, and won't have to worry about a stack of twenty massive projects and/or all sorts of other shit to do as the semester wraps.

In other news, I've been writing this post for a little more than an hour now, and there's already an inch of new snow on the ground. No, I'm not kidding. It just started out of the blue and it's snowing like hell. So, apparently, the forecast above was right. It looks like tomorrow will be another one of those "hole up in my cave" sort of days, not that I planned to do anything else anyway. I think it would be somewhat hilarious if the university closed down again, though (of course) I doubt that will happen. Still, they have about three more hours to make a decision there...hah.