Return on My Investment

Two quick examples of my neuroses (yes, that's plural) before getting into some seriousness.

(1) Am I the only one who has to have all the Starbucks logos line up in order to drink my coffee?

Exhibit (Type) A - no, I'm not driving

I've done this - and subsequently dismissed it - for as long as I can remember.  Every time I think to myself, while adjusting both the cardboard holder and the lid simultaneously, "Is this OCD?  This could be OCD," I convince myself it's no big deal.

But.

This weekend I succumbed to the siren call of every American and actually went through a Starbucks drive-thru.  I realized I had a problem when I got my drink and then veered into a parking space in order to fix it before I could drink it.  I'd like to think that a pack of wild lions chasing me through the African plains could not keep me from drinking my coffee, much less some haphazard logos, but now I'm not so sure.

(2) So, I'm not at home a ton these days, but when I am I keep the classical music station turned on via our cable TV channels.  Most of the time the music is piano-y, violin-y, or orchestral, but every now and then a boisterous marching tune will blast on, full of trumpets and bass drums and cymbals.  It's hilarious to hear it in all its glory while watching Lulu Bell do this:

Yes, that is cage litter in her food bowl.  She plays with it all day long while we are gone.

OK, on to more serious topics.

It has now been two full months of this new career path for me, this honkin' life change.  While it's safe to say that I'm over the main identity crisis and the OMG-are-we-going-to-be-OK, Holy-crap-what-did-I-just-do hurdles, I still struggle every now and then.  This is no longer a moment-to-moment questioning, but more of a sporadic jolt.  Like the unexpected firecracker at the end of the huge show that sends you into your neighbor's lap; despite how you laugh it off, your heart doesn't recover for a while. 

Most recently, it happened when I got back my first formal grad paper and discovered I got a "B+" on it.  Even as I write this, it is embarrassing because, in my mind and in the greater reality of Masters programs, B's are not acceptable.  Grad school is all about going above and beyond, working your arse off, and getting A's.  All A's.  I graduated with a 4.0 on my first Masters, which was no easy task, and now during my very first class, on my very first "real" paper, I get a B+?  Like the plus even matters?  Are you kidding me?

It has taken me a while to work through it.  Luckily, I get the opportunity (along with all other students in the class) to completely rewrite it if I want.  And I will.  Also, in my defense, and this is totally legitimate, I had an extremely hard and convoluted argument to write about and although I tried my best, it was clear to God and my professor and the world at large that I didn't totally understand it.  I eventually talked to my professor about it and realized that he really liked half of it, and it's only the other half that I need to work on, and at least I now understand what to do.

But that has been weighing on my mind lately.  Do I even belong in grad school if I got that grade?  Was pursuing this path and basically arranging my life to support it for the next couple of years a big mistake?  Did I just drag G and Lucy down with me?

But.

Today I got back my latest response paper with glowing - out of this world! - comments on it.  These papers aren't graded; we just get a check or a check minus.  Guess what I got?  A CHECK PLUS!!  The prof actually wrote that he "loved" reading it and it was an outstanding and "original" interpretation of a text!

I think I will survive after all.

I think I can do this.

I think I really was meant to do this.

Whew.

Also?  I volunteered for a fund raising event at my day job.  Bags were lined up with various fun events that teachers and tutors are hosting.  Like, win an afternoon fishing trip with Mr. So-and-So for you and a friend!  Or, watch a movie and eat popcorn after school with Ms. So-and-So.  For a week, students bought tickets (10 for $1.00) and placed them in various teacher bags.  Teachers drew the winners shortly before spring break.

I briefly considered offering Lucy to a student but then decided it was best not to involve her.  Lawsuits and all that.  Instead, I offered a happy meal and cupcake lunch to 3 students and each of them can bring a friend. 

Look how many tickets I got!!

Tons and tons!

This is super duper encouraging to me because in the course of my day, I primarily only interact with one or two specific students to whom I am assigned.  The only time I interact with students at large is when I roam around on lunch duty and open gogurt packets and soup thermoses.  But lately students have been tugging on me in the halls, asking if I know who won my event!  Heavens be!

AND AND AND I went for a jog tonight.  Like, for reals.  Like, for a while.  Bunny mama's gotta exercise after all the eating of late.

Sweaty elation post jog.

I will resist the Easter egg shaped Snickers Bar.  I will.

AND AND AND I really did get a third student to tutor!  We start this week!

All this to say that I am seeing, in small and random and unexpected ways, a return on my investments of late.  My work is meaningful, to me and to others.  I really am making a difference. 

I'm so glad I didn't stay behind the desk at my old job, hiding behind my very safe and secure paycheck.  I would have missed out on so much - joking in the cafeteria, feigning shock and surprise when students tell me about their unbelievable weekends, learning why Hemingway's disturbing short stories actually explain a lot about post-WWI America, and singing Starships at the top of my lungs in the car on the way home from a stellar tutoring session in which an anxiety-ridden 5th grader told me that when he gets nervous in class, he takes a deep breath and remembers what we talked about in our sessions together and then he feels better and can concentrate.

You miss every shot you don't take.  I may have on an ill-fitting uniform and I may be huffing it in and out of bounds at this point, but slowly and surely, I'm getting there!  I'm on the winning team.