facepalm

Mostly I am feeling like this:

This is a facepalm, in case you weren't sure. There's also a nice Star Trek rendition, but I prefer this one. It's from a statue in the gardens at Tuileries in Paris. 

Why do I feel like a facepalming statue man? Because it's the last two weeks of school again, and I have got about a million things to do. The best course of action if you have a billion things to do and not enough time to do them, is to first watch reruns of Project Runway, and then to write on your blog. Hang on. The absolute worst course of action if you have a billion things to do is to watch Project Runway, and then to write on your blog. But anyways, here we are. Let's get on with it, right? Right.

I'm sure you're all tired of hearing me complain about school and how it is stressful and that I hate it, so we'll just assume that's still the case and move on. I'm still trying to find another summer job. I got an interview today, but I don't think it went all that well. They asked me hard questions, and I sort of instantly panicked and started talking really fast and really loudly and saying the first things that popped into my head. This always happens to me; the last time I had an interview, I answered every question with, "I put the most important things first." EVERY question. This time, the interview went like this:

Interviewing Dude: What's your 3-year plan?

Me: Um, I, well, I want to work. And my husband is teaching school, so... Eventually I want to get a Master's degree. But right now I just want to work and get experience. But eventually I want a Master's. A Master's in Marriage and Family Therapy. Or Social Work. Because... well, so I probably want to go to grad school within the next 3 years, but definitely not this year.

Interviewing Dude: What would you do if a patient said something really disrespectful to you and what principle would you try to teach him?

Me: Um, well, I wouldn't be super offended or anything, because I think that's a pretty normal reaction for someone... but respect. I'd probably say respect. Like, "would you talk to your mother that way, I know there are women you respect, so..." You know. Respect. Because I think that's important.

Etc. etc. It was sort of a train wreck. But it could've been worse, I mean. I could've started screaming and jumped out of a window, but I didn't. So that's a plus.

In other news, Jesse gave me these flowers:

And I loved it. The end.