Busy Busy Worker Bee

This week has been...refreshingly insane. I love being busy. The only hard part is having to give up one thing because I'm already doing something else. But I guess I prefer that to having NOTHING, which basically sums up most of my life up until recently. So, recap: MWF I have working with Jenny, then volleyball practice, then usually work or chores or homework or trying to reconnect to my friends. TTh I have school in the morning (college classes, WooHoo!) then volleyball, then sometimes work or just something else that I always seem to have to be doing. Add some volleyball games into the week and I'm full to the brim. Now I'm just trying to fit in exercise on my own, which will probably happen in the early morning (my little sis is going to be my running buddy!).
I suppose it stems from being home schooled through junior high. I'm super grateful that I didn't have to go through the preteen persecution experience, but I was always so lonely and bored that I can never get enough compensation for that time in my life. I never, ever want to "just chill" again. It's only problematic when I think of new things that I want to add to my life and discover that I just don't have the time.

"AhhhhBBA"

This is Jenny. 

She likes puzzles, Shania Twain, ABBA (said "AhhBBA" like 'August', not ABBA like 'apple'; she had me practice a few times), PB&Js, and sleeping. I think she's about 33 and she likes it when you dance like a maniac and snap your fingers. So, yeah, we're friends. 

The first time I worked at her house, she stayed in bed the entire time. She'd had a seizure the night before or something like that, I guess. So I basically got paid $10 an hour to read a magazine. The next time, though, we did this dog puzzle. I am terrible at puzzles. Jenny is pro. I think I'm going to like doing puzzles with her. See, I've always hated puzzles because I don't ever do them for fun on my own. I only do them with other people. The kind of people who do puzzles for fun are usually super speedy so as soon as I see a piece it's gone and suddenly part of a teddy bear or an old Victorian mansion. So that's discouraging. But with Jenny, I just do what I can and she's just doing what she can and our combined efforts make the puzzle last for more than three hours, which is when I have to leave. 

I've actually always been a little terrified of people with disabilities. They just seem so unpredictable without the tiny, cute factor that little kids always have. But, after working on my initial fears, I feel like I already get along well with Jenny. I try to treat her like an adult kid. I mean, she IS 30ish after all, even though she doesn't think like she is. I just try to be my own authentic self. It's a breath of fresh air to be able to do that and have someone dance along and snap their fingers with you. 

The Wilds Of Fast Food Establishments

This little bug (okay, HUGE bug) was caught in the crossfire of employees versus customers. That's really how it feels sometimes. As if Everyone is trying to win something by making life just a little more difficult for customer service. After working at a fast food place, I have learned several things about others, myself, and who I want to be.

1. Tips. Most people are ridiculously cheap, my former self included. I'd never realized how easy it can be to just say "Keep the change".
2. Having your own way. Sometimes, ya gotta understand that the hand that is giving you your food is ACTUALLY human and makes mistakes, has feelings, etc. Just laugh about it. Sure, you wanted no mayo, no pickles, extra cheese. Did you find a few pickles in that burger? So What?? Pick them out, let it go, move on. Tip the person anyway; they're probably stressed and suffering from fast-food induced acne or something. It's not that hard. Trust me.
3. Patience. I get it; it's FAST food. But maybe these few extra moments, when the people inside are busily gathering up grease, fats and some oil and dumping it into a little cardboard container, you can recognize that the time it takes to sit here could easily be used prepping a quick salad. So Don't Complain.
4. Gratitude. Say thanks. Give tips. The end.

"Pop" Goes the Senior

I had two volleyball games this week; home and away. Our full uniforms didn't come yet so we got these huge T-shirts with our numbers on them. I love T-shirts, so I don't mind.

We lost our very first game, the away game, but won the second game, the home game. We play best out of 5 now, because we're in a different league. Before it was always best out of 3. Both games were super dooper close.

During the first set of our home game, we were on fire! I got in this cool dive (well, cool to me) that saved the ball and our team was playing together really well. But, alas, the ball went out and I tried to save it. POP! My mom said she could hear my head smack the gym floor all the way from the bleachers. I later told Dr. H that I hadn't blacked out, but, thinking back, I'm pretty sure things went dark for a second there. Then someone pulled me up and I was standing on feet that felt like I'd fallen asleep in the lotus position and woke up to extreme "pins-and-needles". The first thing I said, though, was "I just had a deja vu!" It was true; I'd seen this before somewhere, but it felt like I was remembering a dream rather than a real memory.

I sat down immediately with ice to my head. Bad news: I couldn't play until I had a doctor's note saying I could. So, I was out. We won. Huzzah.

This is the first time I've ever had a concussion. I had a little goose-egg on my head and torn muscles in my neck, all from some stupid dive. I proceeded to act like an awkward child the rest of the evening at our "team" celebration, but I couldn't tell if that was concussion-induced or me just being my regular self. I don't think I'll ever know.

My Last First Day of High School

I am determined that this will be my best year yet. Which is ironic, as that is the "theme" of this year at my school: Best Year Yet, like the Black-Eyed Peas song I guess.
I'd already dived into doing volleyball (it's sort of difficult for me to swing work, school and volleyball AND friends, as I'm usually a terrible time coordinator). Tryouts were last week. Nobody was cut.
Let me clarify.
This year our little charter school has entered a new league, 2A. So we're not allowed to have a varsity team yet, which actually doesn't make sense. Would it be that way even if we were a regular high school? I don't know. Anyways, we only have a Junior Varsity team and a Freshman/Sophomore team. Both teams are huge. Well, for MCPA. And our gym especially. One gym, two teams. Do the math. It's a little crammed.
Our coach is Lisa, the school counselor. She's nice. Doesn't seem too hard but not too soft yet not too pro either. In other words, she's great. Our team, large as it may be, is fabulous. I'm pretty sure I've got everyone's names down and I try to cheer them as often and as loud as I can. People just like to hear their names. Trust me on this one.
But enough about volleyball, the staple of my life.
First Week, erm, Two Days of School. We officially started on Thursday. Maybe that's so people wouldn't immediately feel overloaded with five days of schedules after three months of lazy. Being a senior is already incredible. Maybe it's just me, but I feel so worry-free. Like, everyone is either my age or younger and for some reason that qualifies them to be below my Worry Radar. It's that weird, familiar feeling of "I love everyone" that I always seem to have for my fellow students. Side note: either I love everyone or I hate them all. I don't single out anyone; they are all equally deserving of both strong feelings. Actually they only deserve the first one; every once in while I deserve to feel the second.
This year, for the first time, we have allowed 7th and 8th graders to attend our little school. I've never realized how small I once was. It's anomalistic, like someone telling you that you finally need your wisdom teeth out. It's a small surprise that doesn't surprise you at all. So this makes my senior experience feel even...older.

In the spirit of moving on to more grown-up things, I just watched an episode from my favorite show when I was little. About some bananas. In pajamas. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQvFnSIIuHE&NR=1