My summer has not gone as planned.
I know. Huge news flash, right?
It has been filled with surgeries and doctor's appointments and recoveries and schedule-jugglings and stuff.
I wanted it to be this totally great and fun summer for my daughter. I had planned all sorts of activities that we were going to do together, but they never happened.
We have squeezed a few things in here and there, but I feel really badly about what I have not done. I am sad that summer is almost over.
Today, I went through all of Allika's curriculum and planned out her daily schedule for the next four weeks. We have decided to home-school her, and I couldn't be more excited. Yes, there are a lot of "what-ifs" and "what-on-earth-are-you-thinking-I-can't-believe-you-would-do-such-a-thing-at-this-point-in-you-lifes," but I welcome those challenges and love to discuss the differing viewpoints on the issue. Maybe I will write a post about that...someday.
I am also in the process of getting my school schedule figured out without a lot of cooperation from my academic adviser. I feel like I am entering the twilight zone when I walk into that office. Just recently she refused to give me a schedule I needed because she insisted that I already had it. Do you know how completely hair-wrenching that can be? When someone can control your destiny by telling you what you do and don't have without any real ability to know what you do and don't have? I think I can read the papers you gave me, and no, that schedule is not amongst them. She concludes that I must have just lost it in the ten minutes it took me to drive from her office to my house. Okay, we will go with that. Can you just send me another one? No, because I already gave it to you.
Ooooh. Power trip.
*Rip hair out*
Do I have a sign on my face that says, "Please just be completely inefficient and incompetent in your dealings with me because I'd like nothing more than to have to report you to your supervisor because it really adds a lot of time to my already hectic and crazy life."
Seriously. There was that time at Wub-Say, when they were going to make me take the meatballs off my own sandwich with my fingers because they couldn't put marinara sauce and pepperoni on the same sandwich, but they could put meatballs with marinara sauce and pepperoni on the same sandwich. No, I am not making these things up.
It's seriously the sign on my face.
Then, there was the time at our friendly mega huge super store that rhymes with Shmall-shmart. They wouldn't give me the money back for a brand new sewing machine that had a manufacturer's defect. Their reason? It was not their machine to guarantee; it was the manufacturer's. I would have to call the manufacturer to get my money back.
They really think I'm stupid, and I can't figure out why. I was tossing around possible reasons with my husband, who wisely agreed that he couldn't figure out why they thought I was stupid either. I came up with the theory that I must look like trailer trash and everyone thinks they can pull one over on me.
It's a theory anyway. Any other ideas?
Sorry for the very angry post. Thanks for letting me rant.