Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Can you spell PROCRASTINATION?

Yeah, me neither.  Class is tonight ... this semester I'm taking Management and Administration.  It's one of the "core" or required classes, and it really doesn't have anything to do with libraries.  Strictly business management, with a library thrown in here & there.  Interesting, yeah, but I'm so desperate to get into some real nuts & bolts library stuff.  Like cataloging, collection management (managing books, not people!) and government documents.  I guess that will come soon enough.

I have a paper due tonight, an analysis of an "organizational culture".  I have written it, read it, re-read it, corrected it, had David read it and comment on it, and I'm sick and tired of it.  I think I did a good job, but these grad school standards have me in a conundrum, and I'm feeling somewhat inadequate.  Earlier in the semester I had to write a "growth plan" (where did I see myself going in the next 5 years and how I hoped to get there) and a resume.  I thought it was outstanding, but I got it back with a low "B".  I guess a B is acceptable, but wouldn't it be great to be, like, an honors student?  How much more do honor students scratch their heads?  How much more thinking does an honor student do?  Am I just an Average Joe?  How boring is that?  Where do I go to buy genius-ness?  I suppose there are more average people than there are Mensa people, hence the name average (picture the bell curve).  If everyone was ultra-smart, by which yardstick would they be measured?  Is this too Jean-Paul Satres for everyone?  I think, therefore I am?  I'm reminded of something my doctor said last summer, can't remember the context, but it goes something like this:  What do you call the medical student who is last in his graduating class?  Doctor.

Melanie tried to shoplift last night.  We were at the grocery store and as we were rolling our way out the door, I noticed her hand behind her back.  I asked her what she had, and she shrugged her shoulders.  That's always a bad sign.  I turned her around and found the pack of gum I had just told her she couldn't have.  Last week she wrote all over her bookshelf with a marker (not the first time -- I recall an incident when we had our old house on the market, and she wrote in BLACK SHARPIE all over the wainscoating in the dining room).  I made a snap judgment right then to empty her room of everything except a bed and dresser.  No small task, that kid has more toys than the North Pole.  It seems to be working; when I put her to bed, she goes to sleep; no more playing until All Hours.  Quentin said it was a little extreme, but hey.  What else can I do that won't get me in trouble with DHS?  As I was cleaning out her junk, I found clumps of hair under the bed, next to a pair of purloined scissors.  Yep, you guessed it.  She's been chopping her hair off too.  She now has a very cute bob, not much in the way of bangs, since they're all gone.  I love that kid, but honestly ... sometimes ... The Thief

What am I to do????  Oh, and for the record, never mention your plans for a 5 year old's birthday party 6 months in advance.  Unless you want to hear, every day for 6 months, how many more days until my birthday? and have the kid invite every grocery store clerk, nurse and handy man to her party, which is in July for Pete's sake.

No comments: