Interim Progress Report: Nance

Interim Progress Report:
I'm not working up to my potential at all. I'm a smart woman, but I seem to be getting in my own way for some reason. When I look at my future, it is bright, but if I don't start applying myself, that future begins to look dimmer and dimmer. I know what I have to do, but for some reason, I'm just not doing it. I just don't seem to be engaged...even when I know that it's in my own best interest to be. I can't seem to get motivated, whether it be by intrinsic or extrinsic means.

Basically, I have a bad attitude lately. I just don't feel like doing anything. Anything at all. Oh, and there's plenty that needs doing, believe me. Let's start with my schoolwork. I have a stack of 65 essay tests over Act IV of The Crucible that need to be graded. I've already held them over from last grading period. They've been ungraded now for over two weeks. Students have been asking, legitimately, about them. "I'm still grading them," I answer them honestly. Because I am. I've already graded 32 of them. It's taking me forever. I have to read them carefully, correct them, and comment on them. Then score them. AAARRRRGGGHHHH!!!! I HATE IT.

Moving on. Housework. The bathroom. Do you have dark-haired people in your house? Because that makes cleaning the bathroom a distasteful job. And by "distasteful", I mean "hairy." We are all dark-haired except for Sam, who is light-brown with blond tips (my little metrosexual!). And my husband and eldest have beards. And my almost-black hair is long. My bathroom is one big hairpit. And because of styling products and a blowdrier (blowdryer?), there is, sometimes, actually hair on the wall. I often harbor a secret evil wish that my sister would lose her job so that she would come clean my bathroom for money. That is how bad my attitude is. But I would pay her eleventy billion dollars.

Two words. CAT HAIR. Why is it not invisible? Why can they not...oh, I don't know...hold it in!? I want to have friends over this weekend. They are dog people. They do not have cat hair all over their draperies at every conceivable level. They do not have cat hair, period. Oh, don't try to make me feel better by saying, "Nance. They have dog hair! It's an issue!" Not the same! Not the same! Not the same! Their dog does not climb on the back of the couch and drag its entire body across the draperies at scalp level! Their dog does not poke its body into every godforsaken drapery opening to see out of every godforsaken window in the entire house and leave a wadcoating of hair 4 inches deep in one day while they are away! You cannot stop cat hair; you can only hope to contain it for the 4-6 hours that your friends are in your home. I hope my sister gets fired in the next three days so she and her Electrolux can come over....BAD NANCE!!!

Basic home maintenance. I feel like my usual fastidiousness (read: borderline manic OCD) has become, well, not so much anymore. I used to come home and, as I walked from the back door to the front room, clean as I went. I threw away detritus, put stuff in the diswasher, tossed the boys' possessions on their steps up to their room, straightened up the living room, grabbed the mail and newspaper, etc, all before even hanging up my coat. Then, went into the bedroom where I would change out of my teacher clothes into my transitional outfit, hung up my school clothes immediately, made the bed, and went into the bathroom to pop out my contacts and clean up in there. Everywhere I went, I cleaned. Now, I feel like I'm just overwhelmed anymore. I look at the Pit of Disorder that is my home and just murmur something about "I can't do it anymore." What a lousy, defeatist attitude. Perhaps I need to consume one of those new energy drinks with the badass name.

Personal appearance. Oh no, you say, well-acquainted with my vanity. Call 9-1-1. If Nance is allowing her personal appearance to suffer, then she needs Bad Attitudes Anonymous. Let me just say this: I have not bothered to wear earrings for two weeks.

I know. I was letting that sink in. This is Code Red. DefCon 1. Or 5. I forget which is higher.
This attitude thing is serious, I told you.

Someone call my sister.