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flying buffalo

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Yesterday was a day for the books. Not the horse racing books, I didn’t make any money, but I did race around quite a bit. I had training for my new job all day and then my math final last night. I was extremely tired in the morning. I’m sure it was due to jet lag (from Utah) and not due to the fact that I stayed up talking, texting, wording, writing, walking, and stamping til after 1am. No, I’m sure it was the extreme jet lag from crossing that state line.

I woke up, painfully, and got ready and THEN looked at the email with the information for my training. In retrospect, looking at the email the night before would have been more beneficial. I ended up being only an hour late to my second day of training. This is where the lack of organization at this new school really paid off. They didn’t even bat a single fake eyelash at me as I stumbled in late, over the precariously piled rolls of carpet at the back of the storage room where we were to be trained. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one that was late yesterday. Bless you tardy people.

I managed to stay awake for the morning on my own and after lunch with the help of my favorite Sobe. (Thank you WalMart!) I don’t normally drink any form of ‘energy drink’ unless I am driving and need to stay awake for a long period of time. I discovered yesterday, after drinking half of my Sobe, that sitting in a classroom like setting for three hours, drinking said Sobe, really make me want to bounce around the room like a mutant rubber ball. I refrained from yelling out any “Whoo hoos!!” When the instructor finally said we could go, but I did make it to my car first. Yay me!

Part of my agitation could be attributed to the nerves I was feeling thinking about my math final last night. This was to be my very last, I repeat, very last math test before I finished not only my class but also all the requirements for my AA degree. I was a bit excited and nervous. I had tried to finish some homework over the weekend and came away confused, frustrated, constipated, and generally lacking any prior knowledge of math of any kind. In other words, I got nothing done. I decided….I would just turn in what I had and hope (and pray) for the best (divine intervention).

I raced home after training, grabbed my math papers and calculator, said hi to those kids I have and took off to the school. As soon as I got out of the car I realized I had forgotten my purse. I NEVER forget my purse. I have this theory that if I ever get into a real doosey of an accident, it will be when I have no ID on me so they will end up taking me to a training hospital where I will die and be buried in poppers field under anonymous. Yeah, I take my ID everywhere with me.

I could not take my final without my ID. I had a moment of wanting to kick a dent in the car next to min (no, I don’t want to dent MY car…duh) but decided to just go in and plead my case. The ladies in the testing center were very nice. They called my teacher and she said she would head right over. Moments later, she called back to say she couldn’t come but would identify me over the phone. Have I mentioned how much I love this teacher? Let it be known.

Long story mid length, I took the test, pretty sure I passed it, and therefore finished my degree plan. Yay for me!! I decided to take my kids out for dinner to celebrate. Yes, the life of a mom. I pay for my own celebrations. We went to a Wild Buffalo Wings place because….everyone likes Wings at my house. It was amazingly good and we had a good time. The highlight of the evening was not, however, the wings. Nor was it even finishing my class. The highlight came from my son Ben, as it often does. He was feeling a bit frustrated about something down at the other end of the table. He and Ethan were arguing a bit and I could tell he was frustrated.  All of a sudden, he yelled out, “I NEED ARM PIT HAIR!”

I have to say, in all my frustrations, I’ve never had this one. The poor guy…if he only knew. Times are a changing boy, be careful what you ask for. You just might get it…and a lot of it….cause I said so.

 

 

Photo credit: http://www.google.com/imgres?q=images+of+hairy+old+men&start=118&hl=en&client=firefox-a&hs=cx1&sa=X&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&biw=1920&bih=941&tbm=isch&prmd=imvns&tbnid=ZsO-bW1pOMuMDM:&imgrefurl=http://darkdemon.org/viewtopic.php%3Ff%3D23%26t%3D80203%26start%3D15&docid=zpO8i-50kTcMWM&imgurl=http://lostinreviews.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/05/epic-beard.jpg&w=400&h=280&ei=xLAOUMaaO8eoiALM_4nMCQ&zoom=1&iact=hc&vpx=557&vpy=155&dur=274&hovh=188&hovw=268&tx=151&ty=102&sig=114757908013112425886&page=3&tbnh=141&tbnw=167&ndsp=65&ved=1t:429,r:14,s:118,i:149



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