Don't You Wish Your Nails Looked Like Christmas Ornaments??

It's Just a Jump to the Left

Last night I got home from work at 4:00ish, I put on sweats, took out my contacts, put in a DVD and flopped on the couch. That is all. I. remember.

I woke up this morning, still on the couch and completely disoriented. I looked at my phone and discovered it was 8:30am. I was then hit with that "where I am? what day is it? what time was I supposed to wake up? what do I have to do today?" panic.

Then I realized...I have nothing to do today. I am working on my Christmas presents for the boys at work but that in and of itself is fairly easy. I'm making them all mix cd's. I'm so dang excited. They know about them, which kind of ruins the fun, but I wanted to make sure they would like them. I spent time over the last 3 days pulling each of them aside for half an hour and making up a list of 15 songs they would like. It was so much fun. We would listen to 30 second clips of the song online, and then I would look up the lyrics and by the time I was done with the first few boys they could tell just by the sound of the "hmm" I would make, whether or not I would approve it. I told them that just because something is radio edited doesn't mean that's it okay for them to have. For example, just because all the cuss words are gone doesn't mean all the lyrics have an appropriate meaning. For a fine example of this please examine the song Forever by Drake. I listen to that song all the time and my brain has never heard any cuss words so overall I feel like it's NBD to listen to it. However, I read the lyrics and oh my dear Lord...not appropriate.

It was so much fun spending one on one time with each of them though. I'm starting to really get to know them and it has really helped me. I feel like the people that get burnt out in this job are those that stand too far on the behavioral line vs clinical line. They're the people who look at kids misbehaving and think "they're just bad kids that need punished". I look at bad kids and think "what happened to that kid to make them act that way?" A coworker and I ran to the gas station yesterday and the lady behind the counter was sullen, grumpy and downright rude. Molly and I got back in the car and started to laugh a little, I asked Molly "If we can smile and be positive and laugh at our jobs, why can't she?? I doubt anyone spit on her today." Molly cracked up and we spent a few minutes talking about why we're here. Why we do what we do. What makes us come into work everyday?

A few days ago I was driving down the road listening to Christmas music and I almost had to pull over to cry. My car has some issues lately and I'm behind in bills so I can't really afford to drive home, let alone do it safely. I won't get to spend any Christmas time with my family. Then it hit me. I still have the option to go home. I could make it work. My family could come see me. My boys? They don't have that option. Granted some of them "deserve" to be where they are, but no child deserves a dead parent, a parent in prison, a parent addicted to drugs or an abusive parent. I just thought of my boys and I thought about how hard this time of year is for me, having lost my mom at 21, and then compared it to them. I lost my mom at 21, after an almost complete education, still having family, having adequate coping skills, resources and friends surrounding me. Some of these boys lost their parents and had none of that. They didn't know how to cope with loss, they didn't have anyone to turn to, they just became children of the streets, doing whatever mindless things they could to form some sort of family and purpose. It broke my heart. I spent some time talking to one of my supervisors about this yesterday and she praised me for seeing this all from the correct perspective. It was nice to feel validated and for someone else to feel the same way.

On Monday I worked an impromptu double, someone called off so I stayed til 10 and then went home and came back for my regular shift Tuesday at 7. In the 33 hours between 7 am Monday and 4:00pm Tuesday, I spent 24 of them with the boys. After realizing that, it kind of makes sense as to why I fell asleep at 4:30 yesterday and didn't wake up until today. I'm not going to say I wasn't exhausted. I'm not going to say that at 9:30 on Monday night I didn't have two boys say "Sarah, you're tired. I can tell. You haven't snorted in an hour, your voice is lower, and you're talking quietly". They know me. They know more about me than I've ever known about myself. They are masters of behavior and observation. It's crazy. They know how I act when I'm tired, they know how I act when I'm stressed, they have figured out that I only wear cute clothes on Mondays and Tuesdays because I see clients right after work and that I wear my hair curly on days when it's raining. They have quickly become my second family. I spend more time with them than my actual family. I can't wait to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with them. I want to remind them that they are loved and I want to make sure they have a fantastic weekend.

Brain Ooze

Disclaimer: it is very likely this post will contain explicit content, ranting, raving, and general rage. Continue at your own risk. 

I. am. on. the. verge. of. coming. unglued. 

If you want the abridged version of this post it can be summed up in a few sentences. 

1) Grad school is freaking hard

2) Even harder when you're in a class that is being team taught by two professors with completely different styles of teaching and a mutual disdain towards the counseling profession (seriously) 

3) Even HARDER when you're assigned a giant project, with almost no instruction and one week to get it all done...no joke 

Let's put my anger this way. I was angry last Tuesday. I was irritated, overwhelmed and exhausted. It's now Monday and that has all shifted to flat out rage and near hatred. 

The class I'm in currently is psychological assessment. Now, as a counselor, you don't give assessments. You don't have to interpret them or score them. You're handed a nice little summation in layman's terms so that you can create a treatment plan, IEP, etc. You only ever have to know what is on the NCE to pass your test....that's it. 

This class is an 8 week class that is being taught by two professors that I actually had in undergrad. I had high hopes, as one of them is a great professor...in my eyes. This class, however, has completely ripped me to shreds. I have a 3.5 GPA in master's level courses, I'm getting a D in this course. That in and of itself is frustrating. What is more frustrating is that I do my work for this class. I read the chapters assigned that are sometimes upwards of 75 pages a week. That's not that much reading, however, we are then quizzed on that reading the following week. Have you ever begun to even think about how to condense 75 pages into a 20 point quiz? Lemme tell you. Near impossible. No matter what, if I read, if I miss a chapter, if I take notes, if I make flashcards...I NEVER guess what info will be on the quiz. I have never gotten higher than a C on one of the quizzes. 

Now, that's not that terrible, however, we were assigned an assessment project that literally means we have to give out two assessments to undergrads who are volunteering for extra credit. One assessment is over IQ and cognitive work, the other is over personality. In actuality it's 5 separate tests, that we have to administer, in the counseling lab, while recording it and THEN we have to write a report on our findings. To sum that up, I (someone who will never, ever, ever, give an assessment) am being asked to administer (in what little free time I have) 5 assessments, then score said assessments, and write a report on each finding. I am neither qualified nor motivated to do such and we received exactly no instruction on how to write these reports other than a minimally constructed rubric. Now, if that was enough to be frustrated over, I go to give the IQ assessment tonight and the professor I least enjoy, decides to sit behind the observation window and watch me give it. I sweated through the entire thing, messed up a large portion, felt completely inadequate and frustrated. I believe it was completely unfair for him to randomly observe me, as that was never discussed in class and isn't supposed to be part of the grading process. 

I'm mad about all that, but then I'm more mad because we literally got the instructions for this last week, couldn't even begin doing it until this week, and it's all due next week. I'm not sure what they were thinking but this is the most poorly structured class I've ever been in. 

As if all of that isn't bad enough, I feel like the professors genuinely look down on us because we're pursuing counseling as a profession. They've both made comments that generally suggest that they believe assessment and actual "psychology" is far superior than what our tiny counselor minds can wrap around. They've mentioned that our counseling theories are statistically non-significant and are mostly unfounded. In one class, a professor verbally abused a student in front of the entire class. We were all left shell shocked as we all just sat in horror at his attack on her. He was rattling off term after term that we didn't understand and I'm pretty sure we were all confused but she chose to speak up, asking sarcastically "could you speak English please?". He then attacked her, stating he was speaking English, and then proceeded to repeat the info he just said, slower, condescendingly and even overusing the word that initially tripped her up. When she was still confused and semi-arguing with him, he just glared at her until she said "I'll just shut up". To which he replied snidely "That would be wise". In all of my years of schooling I have never been so offended by an exchange between professor and student. The entire class was catatonic the rest of the duration and I can honestly say I don't think much learning was accomplished after that point. 

I understand this is all just a rant, and none of it can I really change or prevent from occurring. I teach my kids at work everyday that life isn't fair and things happen "to us" but that behavior doesn't happen "to us", we choose how we respond to the unfairness that is life. I hate that I'm too smart right now to react the way I'd like to. 

I screamed on the way home a little. I put in the one CD I wanted to listen to and scream/sing/vent and it skipped during all four of my favorite songs. I got home and immediately wanted to run, but my elliptical is in the garage still. I actually called Manuel on the way home and warned him I was on the verge of killing someone and that I needed to be left alone when I walked in the door. I literally walked in my house, threw my keys at the table, threw my coat in the corner and went directly to the shower. I literally scrubbed my skin, seriously I think I exfoliated my bones with my "Anti-Stress Body Wash". I'm not sure if that's how that stuff is supposed to work because I was a pretty angry shower candidate. The soothing spearmint and eucalyptus, along with "Rolling in the Deep" playing on loop seemed to help a little. I'm in my pink fluffy robe, under my pink fluffy blanket, on my couch with Band of Horses blaring through my headphones and I'm feeling a little better. However, I still want to install a punching bag in my garage. 

I just keep telling myself. SEVEN. MORE. DAYS.

I Promise I Can Do This

I'm getting kind of tired of hearing something at work. It's not one single sentence...or word...it's a concept.

It's the simple idea that my coworkers are all just waiting for my burnout.

They don't mean it in a rude way. They're not saying it to irritate me. They're simply stating what they believe to be fact.

I'm still "new". I've only been here a month and a half. Eventually...I'll give up too.

You know what? They're wrong.

Tonight, I spent time with the boys. I sat in the doorways of three separate boys. I helped them look up Jordan's and ACG's on the internet. I wrote their Christmas lists for them. I told them about Adele. I educated them on Jimmy Eat World. I laughed with them. I also taught them how to move like Bernie...and then they laughed at me.

As I clocked out for the evening, one coworker praised me for spending quality time with the guys tonight. Another coworker warned me, "just wait, you'll run out of energy, you're still new".

It made me mad. I'm not going to say that I'm 100% always in a good mood but I will say one thing...I don't give up. I love a challenge. I love my job. It challenges me every. single. day. I've come into work pissed off. On Sunday I backed my car out of my garage, misjudged the distance and broke off my side mirror. In the same minute I spilled steaming hot coffee on my crotch. A moment later I spilled that same coffee on my hand. By the time I got to work I could have screamed at the next person who looked at me wrong. Instead, I walked in the door at work and was greeted by one of the boys yelling "SARAH!!!!!!!!! You're working today!" I was instantly laughing and my mood was shifted.

I honestly, seriously, literally love these boys. They are terrors. They are, at times, literally a safety risk. They wear you out. I come home from work and I am exhausted. They are, however, hilarious. When we're having a conversation about baked goods and I say how much I love chocolate cake and then one goes "I don't like chocolate...except my women" HILARIOUS. They just make my day.

So, I didn't say it then, but let me say it now. I WILL NEVER RUN OUT OF ENERGY. Even if I think about running out of energy, or I think I won't make it then I will do one of two things. I will play a David Guetta track in my head or I will just run up the stairs for a sudden burst of energy. I'll do those things, or I'll just walk up to one of the boys and beg him to talk in his "proper" voice...which consists of a British accent and no ebonics. Seriously, hilarious.