It takes a balance. Or maybe this is just a ‘hair of the dog’ speech, yet as a pot smoker, if I don’t smoke some pot, I don’t seem to focus as well. Sounds like a good enough reason to keep smoking, some. It’s true though, maybe only in my current predicament, yet without smoking some, my mind seems to focus on the pain in my hip and the ringing between my ears. Of course, too much smoke results in getting high, or too much THC does at least. In between, there is a balance.
In bed early last night, before ten thirty I slept until the ocean turned off and kept going. Set for eight hours, I had my fill by six thirty yet I did not wake to consider moving until well past seven. Then I was happy enough to wait for the alarm to go off, and another ten minutes too.
Ten minutes taken was ten minutes lost, after I got downstairs I had time to boil water, make breakfast and steep my tea, yet the tea did not have time to cool before I needed to leave for class- I needed ten more minutes. I won’t change my alarm. That is simply a choice that I’ll have to make when the alarm goes off. If I want time to drink my tea, I’ll have to rise promptly.
My teacher was not prompt again today. This morning, I got to meet Drew. Drew’s parents are smart. They knew they wanted to call him “Drew”, so why bother naming him “Andrew”? They didn’t, they are smart. Is Drew a different name if it’s not short for something else? I think it is the name of baseball player. A catcher and a pitcher that would rather be a hitter. A new driver, yet not as new as he is driving a stick. He stalled his new truck seven times on Monday. So far, he has not stalled it today.
The routine continued once the teacher arrived. Unlocking the door, the students flood in after her on their way to their seats as the teacher stands at the door or near her next greeting and nodding to the students entering. Rising from the chair in the hall, picking my up messenger bag and putting it over my shoulder, I seem to be the last to make it through the doorway. With my slow walk across the front of the room, I have a few extra moments to greet the teacher as well. Each time she has inverted and extended it to a bit of further conversation.
Class went well today, I contributed to much of the discussion. I tried speaking less, smaller answers almost incomplete in my mind, hoping to trigger others to add on and build off my comments, yet there were no takers. Genuine in her attempts to stimulate authentic conversation, she asked me for my input after class. By merit of my speed, a similar routine seems to be developing after class. Last out from the room, I receive an escort down the hall, the stairs, and out to the parking lot. I should mention that although she does pace me on the way, neither do I depart her path to take the elevator.
Discussing the possibility of more group activities, and more even smaller group activities (the last was 3 groups for almost 30 students,) as well as various other classroom techniques to pull involvement and participation, I was asked if I’d ever considered teaching as she began to give me a run down on the benefits and requirements. Apart from the Masters degree that I currently lack, I think the statement is clear- I believe I have impressed on my teacher that I would be capable of teaching the current course. Arriving at the parking lot, we stood and continued talking for several minutes as we talked about humanities and the arts. Excusing myself, I bid her well and said I would be looking forward to the next class to which was replied “See you then.”
Arriving to my car I sat and pondered. I was hungry. I was tired. I was way too sober. The balance is tricky, and less is more. I had only take a few tokes this morning before I left for school. A few emergency joints kept in the car, I smoked on on my way to Wendy’s. I hadn’t skipped breakfast, yet I was seriously hungry and that was the closest food I would not have to walk for. Getting there, I pulled in and waited a minute or two, yet the drive-thru line was way too long. I aborted, and drove over to Virginia Coney Island.
Home, I smoked another bowl and started to feel better. Several hours still until class, I went upstairs, had Alexis set an alarm, and took a nap. Have I mentioned I’m still out of Vyvanse? Sent in the refill requests on Friday, yesterday I got a question back from the doctor- he wanted to know why I’d requested the increase to 40mg after being on 30mg for so long. Likely, he is legitimately curious on what made me increase my dosage when he knows I work so hard against that. Reduced effectiveness over time, highlighted as I began college. No response, yet I had a text from CVS this morning, my script had been sent in.
Feeling much better after the nap, I took another toke or two and went to the next class. English 132. Today I learned how to look up a journal article and write a single MLA citation on worksheet. I wouldn’t have rushed, except he said we’d be excused upon the complete of our assignment. Minutes later, I competed and left.
Picked up the meds from CVS, oh, oh, oh it will be nice to have my drugs back tomorrow. Naps are nice too, I like naps. Drugs are better. Got home, smoked more… took a nap. Now it’s nine twenty eight and I only ate a big bowl of cereal for dinner. I’m debating adding a pint of ice cream to my meal plan for the night to bump the calorie intake a bit. Yeah, that sounds healthy (no, it doesn’t.)
If I went to college for like six more years or something, they would pay me $48 per contact hour to teach and stay there forever. Considering some may think I could do that now, it’s a shame I don’t have a Master’s degree. Yet, “adjunct professor” would be cool thing to throw on the resume, so who knows, lets see if I can teach a college credit class one day.
Skipped pool tonight, just wasn’t feeling a bar scene for the night. Maybe next week. Tomorrow, psychology, time to see if that teacher is done playing with their canvas course. Due dates changing all night; on other hand, it is nice how all the classes integrate into the Canvas app. One app for all homework and due dates… kinda nice.
Time to rest.