I. Am. A. Huge. Nerd.

So, that's really not that surprising, huh?

This week I have used my school work as a key distraction from things I'd rather not think or focus on. On Tuesday I got my latest book stipend from my favorite Uncle Sam {{WOO HOO!! I'm rich!}} and before I went too crazy with it, I decided to check my course needs for my next round of classes {{Womp, womp... I'm poor!}}

My next two classes are Textiles and Visual Indication {{more drawing}}. I'm excited about the visual indication class because I get to use fancy markers {{oh to be simple}} but I am a giggly, Irish-jig-dancing-when-the-mail-lady-delivered-my-book, mess, about the Textiles class.

When I was seven, I would tell my mom that I wanted to go to an Art School for Interior Design {{I also wanted to be a Marine Biologist and a Forest Ranger.}} Going to design school has been something I have wanted to do forever. Now, not only am I doing that, but in a few weeks I'll be starting course work for my actual field of study!

I get to take a class All. About. Fabric.

I'M SO EXCITED!!

Of two things I am ABSOLUTELY certain:

I. Am. A HUGE nerd.

and

I am doing EXACTLY what I'm supposed to be!

P.S. Sorry, Mail Lady.

Emotional Cleaning

Do you emotional clean? It's what I do so I don't eat my feelings. Ok, it's what I do AFTER I eat my feelings. It's not the same as everyday cleaning. It's getting the gloves and the toothbrush out and scrubbing the baseboards until the paint comes off... It's different.

I lost an old friend this week. He passed away early Sunday morning. It's been awhile since I had talked to him. Too long. At one point in my life he was a part of a group of friends that I spent three or four nights a week with. We were close and we always had so much fun together. We had it made. We totally took it for granted. One day life happened and everything changed.

Bret was one of the most genuine people I have ever met. I don't think I ever heard him say a bad thing about anyone. He was one hell of a hard worker. He loved his Mama. And he would have given the shirt off of his back to anyone who asked, if he thought it would help them. He also new how to have fun. I can't remember one single time I was with him that I didn't laugh until my sides hurt. Even if I was in a bad mood, he made me better. That's just how he was.

I have a good grasp on death, or so I think. Everyone dies. Sometimes, it's a relief. It ends the pain of a long struggle or battle. For some it's peaceful. For some it's ugly. But everyone goes. It sucks when it's someone young. Sucks even more when it might have been done by their own hand. It ends their hurt but it leaves a void.

And questions.

And confusion.

Questions:

How does a person go from being such a big part of your life to not a part of it at all, overnight?

And why is that normal?

Is it wrong to remember someone for being the life of the party, if the party is ultimately what gets them?

Confusion:

It just doesn't make sense.
{{A sentiment echoed by every. single. person I know.}}

And so I clean.

Hoping I can bleach answers out of the bath tub. Organize the chaos in my house, to help clear up the chaos in my head.

It might not work...

But at least the house looks nice.

I Missed You {{Me}}

Last year was crazy. The baby. The Deployment. The other baby... I haven't felt like myself in a looooooong time. The last time I was *just* about there, *just* about back to some resemblance of a human, I found out I was expecting number three. I know down to the very bottom of my toes that I am one blessed individual. Between my husband and my three beautiful babies, I have no clue what I have done to deserve them and honestly the thought of losing one of them shakes me straight to my core. That being said, having three kids in four years can really do something to a girl.I love them to death but sometimes I feel like I am being attacked by a tiny mob of cute zombies. They're hungry, they're tired, they're thirsty, they need to be changed, hugged, kissed, cuddled, played with, bathed. Let's not forget their laundry, dishes, diapers, toys. My list of things to do never ends. My day starts early {{waaayyyy too early}} and it doesn't end until well after bedtime. Add in school work {{something has to keep groceries in the fridge after J retires some day}} housework {{cough, cough}} and let's not forget my fourth "child" {{love you honey!!}} and dealing with everything it means to be a military spouse. It's easy to lose yourself in trying to make sure everyone else gets taken care of {{it's kind of like being slowly eaten alive... by zombies... Just kidding...but seriously}}

On top of all of that, I have been feeling pretty bad about myself. You know what's really cute on a pregnant woman? A big round belly. You know what's cute on a not-pregnant lady?? {{Womp, womp}} Combine it all together and I've probably been an ogre. Screw not "being myself," I was probably closer to a cave dweller.

The good news is that Baby J is finally old enough for me to start working out. I am nursing and, though I am a little nervous about what it will do to that, everything I have read says to go for it - and drink water {{Lots and lots of water}}. So Friday, I started working out again. Nothing crazy. I want to start slow to prevent a supply loss, so I'm only doing thirty minutes of cardio... for now. I've always known that working out is my therapy, but I didn't realize how much I needed it until I was on my elliptical tonight.

Thirty minutes of quiet. Thirty minutes of by myself. Thirty minutes of blowing off steam. Thirty minutes and my shakra is aligned; my world is at peace {{Namaste}}. Thirty minutes and the ogre is gone...

Thirty minutes just for Me...