Welcoming Spring with Some Irrational Fears by Cindy Haney
I took a small break from blogging because, basically, I’ve been too busy freaking out. I have A LOT to freak out about, people, so give me a break. Much has happened since my last blog, and I know you’re just dying for an update, since my life is just so freakin’ interesting. Let’s talk in terms of Things I’ve Been Freaking Out About:
- It’s my daughter’s Junior Year of High School, and I am already TOO LATE!!! According to every college planning source ever written, if we haven’t started visiting colleges, filling out application forms and forcing my teen to study 24/7 for the SAT exam by NOW, then I AM A THE DEVIL MOM. Why the hell didn’t I start all of this planning FRESHMAN year? I will never catch up with all those savvy plan-ahead types who started thinking about this stuff the minute their kids were conceived.
- I am, without a doubt, so BROKE, that I am one paycheck away from homelessness. What the hell makes me think college is even possible? Sure, my daughter deserves the very best education, she’s an A+ honors student, and she’s incredibly talented, but is that enough to overcome her parent’s severe, incurable case of Financial Retardation? Sadly, probably not.
- We met with a College Financial Planner last week. Dumb move. His slick, well-produced brochures shouted the following shiny, glittery hopeful promises:
- How to Go to College even if you are Broke
- How to Secure the Best Scholarships, Grants and Endowments
- How to Send your Kid to His/Her Dream College
- How to Get Your Unicorn to Poop Rainbows Full of Free Money in 12 EZ Steps
- ….and other Empty Promises and Bullshit Lies.
So after an hour of beating around the bush, Mr. Ivy-League College Educated Financial Planner says he will reveal the answers to all of these promises AND MORE for the low, LOW discounted price of $4,000 bucks. After a long awkward silence of us trying to stifle nervous laughter, we thanked him for the (wasted) time, mopped up our sweat off the floor, and got the HELL out of there FAST. I don’t know about you, but if I had $4,000 bucks just layin’ around, I wouldn’t NEED a Financial Planner to begin with!!! I am now MORE DEPRESSED than ever.
4. Also, I am NOT POPULAR. No one likes my blog. After obsessively stalking the blogs of other humor writers on WordPress, I’ve realized my writing is just stupid and I just can’t compete with these hilarious humorists. I’ll never reach even 10 Likes on my posts, and I DON’T EVEN CARE. Whatever. I can’t do math anyway. That’s why I’m an artist. So shut up. I’m insecure….I NEED MORE ATTENTION!! Send me a Like or I’ll die.
5. Last month, I became 95% convinced my daughter had suddenly come down with LUPUS!!! At least that’s what hours of obsessively googling “purple hands” came up with on medical sites like WebMD.com. It’s been an unusually cold winter here in Texas, and Amanda kept complaining that her hands were turning blue and purple. She does seem to have weird circulation issues. One day during an ice storm, she showed me her hands, and not only were they as icy as the sleet on my car, but they were PURPLE!!! I freaked out and began googling the horrifying symptoms. This is NEVER a good idea, TRUST ME. After a day or two of sweating with this new fear, she came home from school and the conversation went like this:
ME: “Have you been putting warm compresses on your hands like I told you?”
HER: “Nah, I don’t have to do that anymore.”
ME: “What? Yes, you do, you never do anything I tell you to…..”
HER: “Mom, I was in choir talking about my purple hands, and the girl next to me asked me if I was wearing new blue jeans? I said yes, they are brand new Guess jeans, but what does that have to do with anything?”
ME: “How rude…”
HER: “She then asked if I had washed them yet? I said no, then she said to rub my hands on my jeans, which I did. And guess what? Purple hands all over the place!”
I fainted right there on the kitchen floor. THANK GOD. Another medical crisis averted.
6. We had our Annual Education Board meeting (ARD) for my other daughter, Emily, last week. This is the annual meeting that tests all of my strength to sit there and smile and not punch these smug educators right in their brainy heads. You cannot imagine the level of dread I experience each year with this meeting. Emily has some special education accommodations, and we have to re-hash this every year with “her team”. I realize they are only trying to help her, but I always feel like a failure at this meeting, like I am somehow solely responsible for her inability to make above a “C” in math and science. Actually, I am pretty sure I AM responsible and they all know it. I can tell. Anyway, we had to agree to “reduce” her high school graduation plan to a lower level, which basically means she will be taking a less rigorous track. It also means there is no way now that she can go to a 4-yr college. I’ve been losing a lot of sleep over this. Have we just RUINED her future? RUINED her life? WHAT HAVE WE DONE? When’s she’s 19, is she going to kill me for this? I might deserve it.
7. And lastly, I need ALL new shoes. My feet are getting super fat. I am 99% sure my right foot is way fatter than my left. What is UP with that? Not to mention, my ass is expanding at an alarming Ripley’s Believe-It-Or-Not rate. Pretty soon I won’t need a purse anymore, I’ll just my use my Rapid Ass Expansion like a kangaroo pocket for storage. How efficient. Do I have a BUTT TUMOR? A right foot TUMOR? I don’t know. I should probably start another diet FAST, but I am really busy, people. I have to research colleges, fill out scholarship applications, grant applications, college applications, financial aid paperwork, and….. whew!
Well, now you’re all caught up with my current batch of irrational fears. Does anyone want to loan me money for college? Where’s that damn Money-Pooping Unicorn when I need him?