I kept the phone in the bathroom as I got ready for my doctor's appointment. No call. I went to the appointment and returned home an hour later. No call. I checked my email from the school, and there was an email from the department chair, telling me she wanted to talk to me about a "special assignment" for fall. Uh-oh, I thought. Sounds like it's Consolation Prize time.
So I phoned, and she was out of her office. Then I waited. Finally she called back, and what she was proposing was that two of my English 150 classes be labeled Self-Selection (SLA), if I didn't mind teaching them. I'd be working with a tutor. This is similar to what I've done at Mizzou and "the other school." I told her no problem. The other 150 would be changed to an online 321 (Advanced Comp), and I'd still have the night class (also 321).
She brought up that the job decision was still being made and that she hoped to know something in another week. I told her that when I'd been told such things in the past, it usually meant that someone else had been offered the position and they were waiting to see whether that person accepted or declined. She told me not to read too much into it. I let her know that I'd been treated rather unfairly in the past and so I am a bit paranoid. She said she wouldn't jerk me around. Crossed fingers. She said that the assignment for fall would be the same if I got the job.
I can't help feeling, though, that this is preparatory to announcing someone else has the job. So I'm still wondering whether to apply to the nearby private business college. It's times like these that I wish I had a Wise Mother figure to talk with. Sometimes it would be nice to not have to be the grown-up, to let someone else carry the brunt of the worry and decision-making. Especially since I don't feel especially well. It's like I'm in a fog some of the time.
My blood sugar has been high lately. In fact, it's been in the 150s the last few times I've checked. I checked this morning after breakfast, and it was over 200 (223, I think). No wonder I'm feeling so damned tired and run-down. I told Dr. H. that it was high, but my blood pressure was low and he didn't seem too concerned. I did talk him into getting an ultrasound set up of my legs so I could feel more at ease about my progress since the blood clot ten years ago. After that young girl died recently, I've been even more paranoid than usual about any little twinge or ache. Right now I'm waiting to hear when the test will be scheduled. It's keeping me from taking a nap, which (as usual) I need. Last night in addition to a bout or two of snoring, beloved hubbie did some running in his sleep. The scratching sounds of his toenails on the sheets had me worried that I'd be doing some sewing patchwork in the morning. I haven't looked yet to see if he tore the sheets. Maybe I'm afraid to!
And of course, we both had to get up early--me for the doctor's appointment, him for more meetings. There are weeks when he spends as much time in meetings as he does teaching. That's one reason I don't want to embrace more administrative responsibility.
On a totally unrelated tangent, the divorce settlement between Paul McCartney and Heather Mills was finalized, providing her with much less money than she'd hoped, but still more money than the average golddigger gets in a lifetime. Millions. No more having to Dance with the Stars, huh, Heather?
Oh, yeah. Happy St. Patrick's Day. May the road rise up to meet you and the wind be always at your back. Dr. S.
P.S. For reasons I don't understand, the Blog Gods are messing with my paragraphing. I don't like unibrows, and I don't like uniparagraphs. Maybe I forgot to sacrifice a dictionary or something. What would the Blog Gods want?
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