This week, I'm thinking...
- how annoying it is that I've got a spring class at the same time as I'm supposed to be getting my proposal for my thesis to the approval committee
- that the next meeting of the approval committee is next week
- and then not again until May
- and I really don't want to wait until May
- that I'm trying really really hard not to stress about this
- that it doesn't help that I'm down with another chest cold and haven't been able to run off my stress this week
- that even saying "run off my stress" is something I would've never said a year ago
- so there is that
- how at least I have a fantastic D.Min. advisor
- who actually responds to emails
- and responds really promptly
- even if it's just to let me know she's traveling and can't respond fully yet
- and her comments are extremely constructive
- but "constructive" also means "making changes"
- so I'll probably throw a little party-in-my-head when I just finally get this thing sent to the committee
- that getting it sent to the committee is really just the first step
- because they can also not approve it
- and want more changes
- and I'll be back in the roundabout again
- but my blood pressure goes up just thinking about that
- so I won't
- because they can also not approve it
- that I went to my quilt guild meeting for the first time in months this week
- how it's been so long that when I went to sign in, I discovered I'd been dropped off the roster
- and they swear it was by accident
- and blamed it on someone who wasn't there
- and I pouted
- and they told me I really was important to them
- and I just joked about having been disappeared
- it was all very funny
- and I know the woman who accidentally dropped me off the list will feel bad
- which just gives me the opening to razz her to no end next time I see her
- because that's just the way we are at my guild
P.S. Sammy has his follow-up appointment with the surgeon this afternoon. He's recovered really well from the surgery--no signs of problems that I can see. He's feeling so good he's become a bit of a poopy-head about staying low-key, so I've let him off a lot of his restrictions already since he was doing so well. However, I did draw one line: I haven't thrown any tennis balls for him yet. I'm hoping the surgeon gives me the go-ahead so Sammy and I can have a celebratory game of fetch when we get home. Thank you, all, for your thoughts and prayers! It's meant more than I can say.