Today has been one of those days, you know, one of those days in which you actually write “shower” on your to do list so there is a greater chance that you will actually get to shower and if you do shower, you get that little spark of accomplishment that comes with crossing it off your list.
I am feeling down. I shouldn’t feel that way at all, instead I should feel rather euphoric. Yesterday I received the news that I passed not one, not two, but ALL THREE subsets of the WEST-B test I took three weeks ago. Not only did I pass the entire test but I did really, really well. I was shocked to hear that I passed all three portions and was completely blown away by my scores (I only missed two out of the sixty math questions! Of course my first thought upon hearing this was I wonder which ones I missed and what I did wrong). My lowest score, sadly enough in the writing portion, was 93%. Husband brought home some delicious double IPA, a large slice of red velvet cake, and a bouquet of flowers to celebrate my smashing of the test.
Yesterday I also received word that the university of my choosing has sent me the coveted Offer of Admissions letter and that they will work with me on placement for my student teaching so I can be close to home, perhaps even in the school both boys will be attending next year.
Everything is falling into place. And yet today I am morose. I have grouched around while still being productive. I have completed and printed out the stack of papers that we will take with us to Carter’s kindergarten registration this Saturday. I have planted the two primroses Carter and I picked out as a way to honor the memory of Dexter. I even took the time to do my workout program this morning.
And yes, I took a shower.
If I was forced to put my finger on it, I would say that I am a bit depressed by all the change that is happening. I don’t like change even if it is for the better. It stresses me. And lately there has been a lot of it.
Finding childcare and realizing that I will miss so many precious moments with my boys while I toil away learning to become a teacher.
Registering my youngest child for kindergarten.
Dexter’s death and the fact that we have, as Carter puts it, “zero dogs”.
Becoming a reader columnist for The News Tribune and actually having to produce good material on a deadline.
All these things are good, even Dexter’s death for he was old and in pain. And yet I do not feel good about it all. At least I don’t today.