I am toying with the idea of getting a minor in Nutrition. I love food. We all know this. Love to cook, love to eat, love to talk to other people about cooking and eating...(Aside, my mother just sent me a chocolate bar from this company called Bloomsbury. It is the best chocolate I have ever eaten.) So I am thinking, nutrition is something that will easily fit into my health care major, many of my nutrition classes will also be accepted as electives for my BS and I will get to study food and the body and stay engrossed in one of the things I really care about.
I am taking a nutrition class this semester (btw, my teacher is a customer at my store, I hope I was nice to her) so we will see how we like it.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Monday, January 11, 2010
I wish I was a neat freak.
I really really do. But i am not. Neither is my husband. In fact, we are both pretty messy. As I sit here typing, on my desk is a bag of starbursts he is currently eating, a chocolate bar that I am grazing. Now these items are in use, so thats not so bad, but when we add them to the sleeve of ritz crackers that I didnt put away three nights ago, the bottle of hot sauce that seems to keep aparating no matter how often I put it away and the three water bottles that are at various stages of being consumed, you begin to see that we have a problem.
There is christmas ribbon that didnt make it in the box with the paper, my camera, change from someone's emptied pockets, a school schedule, a camera, a pen cup, a bottle of lotion and a remote control. And the desk is no isolated incident.
So this is bad right?
The saving grace of my marriage (well one, there are probably several) is that neither Ryan nor I have a chore distribution paradigm. The house looks like what it looks like. Inevitably, I will get tired of the mess before he does and begin to pick things up. So eventually, the laundry will get done, the dishes washed, and the kitchen and the bathroom cleaned.
He doesnt expect that any of these things ever be done so if I do them fine, if not, they can keep until it gets gross enough that he decides to do it. Circle back to the inevitable I will get disgusted long before he will...
I am fine with this. As long as he poses no expectation that I pick up after him on his schdule, I am content to do it whenever I am in the "picking up mood".
The problem is... The mood is not something I am in on a day to day basis.
I like cleaning days. I like to start when I wake up, open the windows, turn on the radio and spend 4 to 5 hours at a pace working from one end to the other. I never get to do this on a 9-to -5 so I just can never get motivated to do much of anything.
After all... its not like i have friends over. For that matter its not like I have friends here.
Is cleanliness still next to godliness if there is no one to hear the cleanliness fall in the forrest?
There is christmas ribbon that didnt make it in the box with the paper, my camera, change from someone's emptied pockets, a school schedule, a camera, a pen cup, a bottle of lotion and a remote control. And the desk is no isolated incident.
So this is bad right?
The saving grace of my marriage (well one, there are probably several) is that neither Ryan nor I have a chore distribution paradigm. The house looks like what it looks like. Inevitably, I will get tired of the mess before he does and begin to pick things up. So eventually, the laundry will get done, the dishes washed, and the kitchen and the bathroom cleaned.
He doesnt expect that any of these things ever be done so if I do them fine, if not, they can keep until it gets gross enough that he decides to do it. Circle back to the inevitable I will get disgusted long before he will...
I am fine with this. As long as he poses no expectation that I pick up after him on his schdule, I am content to do it whenever I am in the "picking up mood".
The problem is... The mood is not something I am in on a day to day basis.
I like cleaning days. I like to start when I wake up, open the windows, turn on the radio and spend 4 to 5 hours at a pace working from one end to the other. I never get to do this on a 9-to -5 so I just can never get motivated to do much of anything.
After all... its not like i have friends over. For that matter its not like I have friends here.
Is cleanliness still next to godliness if there is no one to hear the cleanliness fall in the forrest?
Sunday, January 10, 2010
When I grow up...
Do we ever become? Even now as I have finally committed to an academic program and am on a path, I find myself suddenly unsatisfied with it.
I was talking to my mother the other day about my OTA program and what the timeline will be like. I will find out in February if I am selected to start in the fall.
"What happens if you dont get in?" she says to me.
A perfectly legitimate question I suppose. But I didnt have an answer. Not get in? Who are you talking about here because I know you dont mean me.
But then I had to think about it. What am I going to do if I dont get accepted to this program? A program that will graduate me with an associates degree no less. Ha.
I suppose I just keep plugging along with the classes I need for my Bachelors. Pick up a minor perhaps? But what in? Dietetics so I have an excuse to study food? I would rather be in culinary school I think we all can admit that, but who wants to work in a restaurant for 80 hours a week?
I mean, I would like to have a little breakfast and lunch diner that served pies. Not just sweet pies of course but quiches and ham and cheese pies and spaghetti pies and everything you can imagine in a pie shell. It would only be open for breakfast and lunch. The kinda place where all the old men come in the morning to sit and drink coffee you know? Not that you need a college degree for that... but you do need a benefactor right? And since I am minus a sugar daddy and refuse to scrub out my husband for the life insurance money ( not that he hasnt offered ) ....
I miss blogging. Heather Lee said today that she wouldnt read my journal because it would be boring. Then after discussion, not because the material would be boring but more because the pages would be blank. I began to ask myself, do I not blog anymore because I have nothing to say?? Rarely do I have nothing to say so that cannot be it. Do I suffer the same ill feelings towards my cyber journal as she... that I have allowed it to become a medium for my own bellyaching and less as a creative, thoughtful exercise?
I was talking to my mother the other day about my OTA program and what the timeline will be like. I will find out in February if I am selected to start in the fall.
"What happens if you dont get in?" she says to me.
A perfectly legitimate question I suppose. But I didnt have an answer. Not get in? Who are you talking about here because I know you dont mean me.
But then I had to think about it. What am I going to do if I dont get accepted to this program? A program that will graduate me with an associates degree no less. Ha.
I suppose I just keep plugging along with the classes I need for my Bachelors. Pick up a minor perhaps? But what in? Dietetics so I have an excuse to study food? I would rather be in culinary school I think we all can admit that, but who wants to work in a restaurant for 80 hours a week?
I mean, I would like to have a little breakfast and lunch diner that served pies. Not just sweet pies of course but quiches and ham and cheese pies and spaghetti pies and everything you can imagine in a pie shell. It would only be open for breakfast and lunch. The kinda place where all the old men come in the morning to sit and drink coffee you know? Not that you need a college degree for that... but you do need a benefactor right? And since I am minus a sugar daddy and refuse to scrub out my husband for the life insurance money ( not that he hasnt offered ) ....
I miss blogging. Heather Lee said today that she wouldnt read my journal because it would be boring. Then after discussion, not because the material would be boring but more because the pages would be blank. I began to ask myself, do I not blog anymore because I have nothing to say?? Rarely do I have nothing to say so that cannot be it. Do I suffer the same ill feelings towards my cyber journal as she... that I have allowed it to become a medium for my own bellyaching and less as a creative, thoughtful exercise?
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