Conditionally

So, if you read my last post, you now that my experience with the GMAT was painful. And that the powers that be decided I had to take the damned thing. Yeah, whatevs. What you do not know, unless you delved into the comments, is that I found a big pair of lady balls and called the MBA Advisor at my first-choice school. And told her the story. About how I meet every single requirement but the damned score breakdown. So her words? Basically she told me it had to be a fluke, that either I got some really difficult questions in the beginning and that psyched me out, or my math section was abnormally hard—Basically, that there had to be a reason that the math score didn’t match up with my academic record or the remainder of my GMAT score. She’s right. We started talking about the courses I have taken and my performance in them. Corporate Finance. Financial Accounting. Stats. Calc I and II. A. A, A, A, A. I even got an A in that damned corporate finance class and am thanking my lucky stars that I do not have to take it again at a 600 level lest I kill myself. Seriously. So wtf gives with the GMAT math? Because the GMAT is an asshole of epic proportions. But…She told me to NOT SCHEDULE THAT TEST UNTIL I HEAR BACK FROM  HER. She said she was taking it to the dean.

So anyway, she had me fax my unofficial score report to her. I got no response, so I gave her a day or so and called to see if she got it, which is when she asked for my resume. By now they have received my app, my resume, my unofficial GMAT score, and my official transcripts. All that was left were my letters of recommendation, cover letter, and hard copy of my resume. I mentioned as much in my email and that I was sending those in this week. I was waiing for a phone call from her when a funny thing happened.

I decided to empty my email inbox of spam. There were so many emails where I had been out of the loop recently that I was about to just declare email bankruptcy when I spotted it. She had replied.

“Andrea, with your existing GMAT score, your excellent GPA, and the resume you sent, you are fine for conditional admission. Do NOT retake the GMAT.”

Oh. Ok. Yeah, no more of that GMAT shit. And then I stopped to think about what she said. By then I had closed the email. So I reopened it. And got hung up on the word “conditional”. Until I remembered that my BSBA will not be completed until September and they cannot grant me full admission into the MBA program until that is finished. So what did she really tell me?

She told me I’m getting in. To one of the top B-schools in the whole friggin’ country. Not only that, but to the most competitive program at one of the top B-schools in the country, since it means they will basically be waiving all of the first year MBA courses for me and I will finish the degree in a year. Basically, because of this, you have to have your shit together to even avoid them not throwing your app in the garbage immediately upon receipt.

She told me that I fucking did it.

And then I started crying. And I picked Evan up and swung him around. And Zachy and I danced around the room. And I anxiously waited for John to come home from class so I could tell him. But I didn’t get to tell him because, as soon as he pulled into the driveway, Evan was running toward the car, shouting, “Daddy, Mommy did it!!! She did it!”

I did it.

I really did.

Conditionally.

The GMAT or OH MY GOD Can People Really Do This?

I am so pissed at myself right now. I can honestly say that in all of my higher education, standardized tests, credentialing exams—and there have been plenty of them—I have never done poorly on a test of any kind.

So it starts with me trying to prep for my GMAT for a couple of months. Honestly, there was just never time. There was always work. Or an appointment for one of the kids. Or John had class. Always something. But I tried half-heartedly to prepare. And by the time I was finished with all of the tasks I had to do, I was too exhausted for anything that could be considered optional. I mean, the GMAT doesn’t sign my paycheck. My grades do not depend on studying it, so it had to be moved to the back burner. And then I found out that the required score for my top-choice program is not that difficult, and I blew off studying altogether.

Holy shit.

On test day, I was nervous as hell. Butterflies and nausea. Heart-racing, palm-sweating nervousness. I tried to pump myself up with an iPod full of pump-up music. Lots of Eminem and other I’m-Kickass tunage. I chugged a venti mocha from Starbucks. Then I squared my shoulders and marched my happy ass right into that testing center as if I owned the place.First of all, let me tell you that Fort Knox could learn a thing or two from the security of a GMAT testing center. Palm-vein scans. Digital photos. Audio and visual recordings of the entire test. Pockets turned inside out and sleeves rolled up before entering. You have to put everything into a locker. EVERYTHING. All you are allowed to have on your person is your photo ID and the key to the locker they give you. No pencils or paper. They give you a dry-erase notebook for scratchpaper, and you aren’t supposed to erase it. When you run out of room, they bring you a fresh one. They provided me with earplugs, but I wasn’t even allowed to have the wrapper they came in. Please explain that one to me. How does one cheat with an earplug wrapper they get from the testing center? Because if they can figure that out, they deserve to ace the damned GMAT.  I had to unwrap them before I even entered the testing room and give he wrapper to the proctor. And when you leave the room for any reason, the entire process happens all over again.

And then I sat down to take the test.

I whizzed through 2 writing assessments. I gave responses that were well-developed and organized in thought. Grammar was perfect. No spelling errors. If anything, I can churn out a paper for anyone and anything, so I am sure I nailed those, though it will take a few weeks for the powers that be to determine my score on them. It gave me a chance for a scheduled break, which I declined. I mean, I finished the writing assessments with time to spare, so I was in the zone. Ready to go for the net round. Bring it on, Bitch!

Next came quantitative. I’m not allowed to tell you about any of the questions. I swore on my children and my future as a human being in this world that I would not. But I will tell you that this math can suck a big one. Algebra, geometry, and arithmetic organized into either problem-solving or data sufficiency questions. The math concepts were not hard at all. What was hard? The way it was organized into the problem. Each problem solved by a long chain of steps, and then the solution is not at the end of those step, but rather some portion that relates to it. And then the answer choices! Normally, when one takes a multiple-choice math exam, they solve the problem and if their answer doesn’t match the choices, the know they have done something wrong, they go back and work the problem again and find an answer that matches. Well, the GMAT bases incorrect choices on common mistakes. Say you forgot to divide the number in step two of fifteen by 2. One of the answer choices will fit that error, so you see your answer among the choices and have no idea you were wrong and are completely oblivious. But then you don’t just get the problem wrong! Your score goes down and the subsequent questions are easier because the test then figures you are a fucktard and need easier questions. Incidentally, the easier questions are worth less, so then it takes forevver to get back up to the score you need. But if you get the first few problems correct, the exam propels you into the difficult questions. And for me, these were insanely difficult. And then there is data sufficiency. I can’t even….Just Google that shit. The GMAT prides themselves on the fact that they invented this question type. If I were them, I would not be proud of the fact that I tortured poor college students seeking advanced degrees. And they are a big fricken part of the quantitative secion. Whatever. Shake it off, because after another body cavity search after a potty break, it’s time for the verbal reasoning.

Critical reasoning, sentence correction, and reading comp compose the verbal reasoning. Simple, right? Ummmm, no. Because the GMAT gives you complex sentences full of modifiers in odd places and odd verbage that one would never use in a normal conversational tone. The grammar is perfect, but the flow of the sentence is completely awkward and clumsy. So you really have to know your grammar. Conjugation is a biggie. The critical reasoning gives you a statement and you are expected to draw inferences or determine ways to weaken or strengthen the argument–whichever is asked. The reading comp is pretty standard, except the passages are verbose and dry, written on topics nobody could give two shits about.

And just like that, you’re finished. And the beauty of the GMAT is that you get your unofficial score right then. It isn’t official because the writing assessments have to be scored by some geek in an office somewhere. But the rest of the test is scored. And they don’t even give you a warning that it is coming. It just pops up on the screen, and you are in a room of other test-takers and cannot blurt out any expletives. I mean, I think I deserve some extra points for not blurting out, “YOU HAVE GOT TO BE SHITTING ME!!!!!”, which is totally what I was thinking.

Because here is what the fuck happened: I aced the verbal reasoning. I am pretty sure that I nailed the writing assessments. I bombed the fucking math. Fuck. FuckityFuckFuckFuck. However, I scored so well on the verbal that my scores are competitive anywhere–Wharton, Harvard, Keenan-Flageler—any of the big B-schools. I fucking did it. But then I start revisiting the requirements for my first-choice school. GPA 3.5. Okay. GMAT score greater than 470. Okay. (GPA x 200) + GMAT> or = to 1070. Yeah, okay. I’m good, right?

No. Halt. Big screeching brake sound here. Because they want a certain percentage of the GMAT score to come from math. Fucking math. And my score was so unbelievably lopsided.

I aced it, and yet I still have to retake it.

Shit.

I am pissed. I want to shout from the rooftops that I have never done poorly on any test ever. Come to think of it, I don’t think I have ever even gotten a B on an exam. I certainly have never gotten a B in a class. I can write when I have to. I test remarkably well. What the fuck????

Oh and did I mention that the exam was, like, $300? Not counting prep materials. And I have already gone to the store and purchased a program specific to GMAT math. Feel free to take up a collection for me. I have to wait 31 days to retake that fucker, too.

I would rather shoot myself in the eye than take that fucking exam again.

While I Was Away

I’ve been busy. I’m sorry. I’m a horrible blogger. And the truth? I’m still busy. I honestly have no business creating a long list of catch-up posts when there is so much I should be doing. So I am going to try to catch you up in this one post, if you are still out there.

School: I’ve got a couple more classes under my belt. More A’s. I’ll be finished with my business degree in September. I’ve been working on the MBA applications. More on that in a sec.

Evan: Evan is still…Evan. They’ve changed his meds several times. Some of it has been good and some bad. The bad changes are the ones that had him literally awake for days, dark circles under his eyes, palor. It broke my heart. Until one day when his teacher called and said he fell asleep in school and we had to bring him home and let him sleep for almost 2 days straight, only waking him to get some fluids in him so he didn’t dehydrate. I hate it all and would love more than anything to just be able to take him off of all of them and get them out of his system, but I kow he can’t function without them. Now things are finally looking up. He came home last week, excited and proudly presenting this flyer from school. Turns out they are having baseball sign-ups and Evan wants to play. We signed him up. He’s never played a sport before because he has never shown interest. But we jumped on this, even taking him to get fitted for a glove and bat, getting him training gear. He’ll start practicing here at home this week, since he is too old to play tee-ball, and this is actually pitch baseball.

Zach: Zach was officially assessed at the 12-month level, developmentally speaking. He has started therapy after officially being labeled as developmentally delayed. I had some very overwhelming days where it struck me that I have one child with Asperger’s and another who is DD. I had to get past that to carry on. In the meantime, in absence of any verbal communication, the therapist has started teaching Zachy to sign what he wants. Simple things like “more”, “drink”, “all done”, “eat”, and “help”. He can finally express what he wants to us instead of having a meltdown because we cannot understand his grunts and shouts. And with this development has emerged some attempts to be verbal. He can get the intonation of the syllables of words, but nothing anyone can understand yet. But he is trying, which is more than he was doing a month ago. He continues to be social and adorable and loving. And he is so smart. He can clearly understand anything you say to him. He hs favorite places and knows the routes to those places and will cry if you turn the opposite direction in the car. We just have to catch him up a little bit.

Grad School: I got letters of recommendation from my direct supervisor and department director at work. I wrote a stellar cover letter and drew up a new resume. I had my transcripts sent yesterday. Yet about a month ago, I was having a weak moment, so I scheduled a time to go into my first choice school and speak to them about my potential for admission. I was armed with nothing more than an unofficial printout of my undergrad work. She basically told me there was a very little likelihood that I will be turned away with my academic record. But I have to take that damned GMAT. You may recall that I took two weeks off at the end of January to prepare for and take the test. And then I psyched myself out and wouldn’t do it. That was the low point where I called them and made the appointment. And then I bit the bullet and scheduled the damned thing. And tried and tried to prep for without the advantage of time off from work or school. As a matter of fact, I have finished two more classes and started 2 more in that time frame. I still feel underprepared. My stomach has been in knots for days. As in butterflies and queasiness. The exam is tomorrow. If all goes well, I will be started at one of the top-ranked MBA programs in October. Oh, and that’s another thing: because I went back and did an undergrad business degree and will be fresh from that with immaculate grades, I am elegible for their accelerated program. In other words, they will give me credit for my undergrad and I will only have 8 classes left to my MBA. So by Summer of 2013, I will be an MBA. Yeah. No pressure. I have to get in. Have to. No other options. I even submitted all of the financial stuff for grad school, and at a very expensive private university, I will even have all of that falling into place.

So there you have it. While I haven’t been present in the bloggy world, I’ve been doing plenty. I look forward to catching up on everyone’s blogs and hopw you’ll forgive me for my absence.

Moving Forward

I’m not sure what it was. Was it the crushed aspirations of becoming a doctor? Was it the fact that it was so unbelievable? Whatever it was, I felt the overwhelming urge to snap a photo with my phone. A photo that says, “I really was here.”

The Williams College of Business at Xavier University. Number 14 business school in the nation, all around.

I met with them yesterday. I met with them at a point when I was feeling bedraggled and seriously doubting myself after a week of GMAT Prep-Hell. I had some questions, as I was trying to determine which of their programs is right for me. I took a printed copy of my unofficial transcript with me. I spoke with the admissions advisor at length. I’ll hit the highlights:

I mentioned that I still need to submit my personal statement. She told me not to botherd, that the level of my work speaks for itself.

I mentioned my nervousness, my trepidation at the GMAT, and she told me it is normal as she smiled and told me there is no way my score would be low enough to bar admission.

I spoke to her about the fact that my resume will reflect all healthcare. She said it absolutely does not matter, but raher shows I have worked and managed a career while keeping that academic record–her emphasis, not mine. And my completion of an undergrad business degree will be business experience enough.

And my favorite? As I was leaving, she explained how those with experience in the business world come into an MBA program and try to intimidate those of us coming from a different background. And she told me not to let them, that I will be great and she wants me to put them in their place.

I left there with a bigger spring in my step. Feeling charged and ready. And thrilled with the thought that, if all goes as planned, I only have 8 classes to take to get my MBA.

No Rest For the Wicked

I swear, everybody, that this next comment is going to make me seem like a braggart. I’m not. I’m really, really not. But some people have to really work at academics. I am not one of those people. From grade school, I have handled school work with ease. My business classes have been a cakewalk other than the demands on my time and the volume of work to be done. It isn’t that the work is demanding–it’s just overwhelming for my current schedule.

I am currently in a statistics course. It seems like common sense, and I have an A in the course with only two more assignments to be graded before winter break. But I swear, some of the assignments have been insanely difficult. Maybe it is because it is difficult to learn the intricacies of these complex mathematical formulas online with no face time with my professor. I can do the work but it is actually taking a certain amount of effort. Monday, for example, I had to complete a project that involved a 250 sample size, including organizing the data, computing solutions for problems regarding the data, and presenting it all in spreadsheet form along with an APA-formatted paper analyzing and interpreting the meaning of the information I extrapolated from the data. All of this was done after working all weekend and not sleeping. I literlly came home from work on Monday morning and sat at my desk at 7:30 AM and not completing it until 1AM Monday night/ Tuesday morning. At one point, whether it was from exhaustion, stress, being overwhelmed, or whatever, I actually broke down into tears. In the process, John kept looking over my shoulder, shaking his head and exclaiming how no human could possibly understand the stuff I was being asked to do for the project. He brewed me 5 pots of coffee throughout the day. And then, once completed, I had to hurry and finish the 46-slide PowerPoint presentation on the organizational effectiveness of my current employer. By the end of the night, I was nauseous, my fingers were swollen from feverishly typing, my back/ neck/ head ached. I was still sore the next morning, and didn’t want to even see typeface for a while. No Kindle, no blogs or blogging, no reading.

I am almost finished. I will be on winter break from Monday through January 8th, when I will return to a whirlwind of classes before I can move on to the MBA. As a matter of fact, I will have 6 more 5.5-week sessions, back to back, with 2 classes each session. For the immediate period of time, I am working every hour that is available. I have 3 days off between now and January 4th, and none of those are holidays.

And now starts my countdown for my GMAT and working on grad school applications. I have put in for vacation for the last 2 weeks of January–time to wrap up exam prep and actually take the exam, hopefully with a few days left over to do nothing work- or school-related. To maybe kick back and celebrate what I have done just a little bit. On a side note, I actually got some interest from M.I.T, which actually hurt a little bit. I cannot pick up my entire family and move like that, though their interest is beyond flattering.  I mean, this is the number  3 MBA program in the country! For me, when just this time last year, I was on track to med school. Maybe in a different time and place. But for now, I have my top three choices and a couple of “safety” schools picked out, and we’ll leave it at that.

In the meantime, I am going to try to spend some downtime here in the Blogosphere over he net three weeks. Please be patient with me and don’t lose interest.

I’m not a huge country fan, though I love me some Kenny Chesney. His music just reminds me of my John. But anyway, he has this song that sums it up pretty well, and I leave you with the key line from it:

“Hey, I wanted it all and that’s what I got.”

Bitchypants, Out.

A Million and One Different Directions

Yep, that’s my life. I’ve been pulled in a million and one directions this past week.

First of all, there’s work. Work has been crazy. Exhausting. Busy. Every night that I’ve worked, we’ve been cut down to 4 therapists at night instead of 5, which means we all run our asses off. And so I come home cranky and tired and ready to just sleep and chill, in that order. But I don’t get to do either.

Because then there is school. I’m still in my Operations Management and Corporate Finance courses. I’m not sure what’s up, but never before have 2 classes thrown me for a loop like these two. Each course has the standard 3 papers per week, plus 2 hours of either live or recorded lecture, plus about 150 to 300 pages of reading, But the corporate finance papers are hard. Don’t get me wrong: I have 2 papers left in each class and I still have A’s in both courses, but those A’s have taken work. I usually work Thursday through Sunday which leaves me Monday through Wednesday to complete all of my school work. But there’s a catch.

Because John started classes. Which means on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, I may be off of work and have all of the time in the world, but on those days, Zachary roams the house with abandon. We started by me trying to do both: school work and  be Mom Extraordinaire. It didn’t work. What really happened? I would type a sentence and get up and intervene in impending disaster. And feel horribly guilty that my time with Zach should be with Zach, not doing school work. And watch him destroy something with the mindset that, so long as it isn’t harmful to him, its okay. He tore an entire pack of flourescent pink index cards to bits and was working on the orange ones when I finally gave this up. So the new pla n is to not bank on getting anything done while John is class, which means my school work is now arranged around 2 schedules. And then came the NICU…

There was one day last week where I got 3 calls, and each one was regarding something else I have to do to get ready for the opening of our new Level III NICU at work. A ventilator inservice here. A mandatory class there. Licensing requirements. Drug screen, immunizations. It’s a liitle bit crazy. Because I have no time, this cuts into time I have alotted for other stuff. And then there’s Evan.

To get Evan treated and to make a full diagnosis, we have to do a million things. Tests, evaluations. Therapy appointments. Waiting on psychiatry referrals so the specialists can manage meds instead of our family doctor. Children’s is a one-stop shop, but there are a gajillion people there that all do something different. The Division of Developmental Disorders and Behavioral Psychology handles all Asperger’s evals, diagnoses, and treatment plans. And then the therapist handles his bi-weekly therapy. Now we are waiting for a referral to go through for psychiatry so we can get some medication management. This in and of itself is turning into a full-time job. A job, I might add, that is not well-managed by someone as disorganized as John. Which leaves me. I’ll do it. I won’t complain because I am grateful that Children’s is a stone’s throw away. If anyone is ever going to have something go wrong with their child, this would be where they want to be. In fact, there are people who fly in from other countries to have their child’s life-saving surgery done here. Yeah, I am that lucky, and I know it. But there is more to this, and it is another post altogether.

Zach? Well, Zach is the most laid-back, non-demanding person in this family right now. Yeah, how sad is that? That a toddler is the lowest maintenance? Pfft. But I keep trucking away. I somehow get it all done. I have no idea how. I used to be one of this smug people who would tell you that it is all in time management. But time management is only as good as the amount of time you have. I manage 150 hours worth of crap in 100 hours of time—not an exact figure, just an example. And it sucks. I know where my priorities are at: work–because I have to provide for the family and Evan needs my health coverage now more than ever, Evan’s treatment–well, just because, and my family. If I have to drop classes, I can. If I have to tell my boss I cannot do the NICU, I can. If John has to drop his classes, he won’t handle it well, but he can. I’m just trying not to have to do any of those things.

One day, I swear, I will be able to relax. I just hope it sin’t when I’m dead.

This is My ‘Fridge.

You know how people put braggy Mommy stuff on the fridge? A homework assignment done well, an aced test? Well I don’t get to do that because my stuff is all online. Well, that, and I am an adult. But dammit, nobody ever sees my work. So this past weekend, I was checking the grade book to see how I did on my latest paper, only to get this little note. And because I have nothing left to report, I am going to share it with you all. Lucky you!

 

Excellent job Andrea.  You demonstrated your knowledge of the correct formula to use, arrived at correct answer, and gave correct recommendation. You did an outstanding job on the formulation problem.  . .Appearance wise, your paper is a superior looking product acceptable in the business world. Your paper content follows the assignment with appropriate headings and subheadings. .Your APA format was excellent.  You demonstrated a mastery of all APA style and format functions.  Excellent writing quality. This is very acceptable in the job market for management level position. You demonstrated a Senior college level grammar; no grammar errors. Your paper  clearly described the service related value chain. You addressed all of the major steps, with logical explanations to what should/should not be outsourced. You did an excellent job describing the major elements of this service related value chain. Your evaluation of the elements for possible outsourcing and supporting justification was excellent as well. .Excellent job of clearly describing the product related value chain, from beginning to end; no steps missing, with logical explanations to what should/should not be outsourced. You did an excellent job describing the major elements of this product related value chain. Your evaluation of the elements for possible outsourcing and supporting justification was excellent as well.  Service company answer depth and quality (25%)-  25 pts. Product company answer depth and quality (25%)- 25pts.  Make vs. Buy Problem (20%)- 20pts. Format: easy to follow (10%)- 10pts.Follows APA Style and Formatting (10%)- 10 pts.      

Not-So-Wordless Wednesday: A Self-Portrait at 3 AM

Sexy Bitch. Yeah.

One of the problems of working night shift is that, after years of being awake and taking care of the critically ill while the rest of the normal world sleeps, you get used to the muffed-up schedule. And can’t sleep.

One of the benefits of online classes is that one can attend in their friggin’ pajamas and no one will know.

Unless one takes a photo with their webcam. At 3 AM. In their pj’s. With a big-ass cup of coffee that in proportion resembles a cereal bowl with a handle. (Hey, thanks, Pampered Chef, for making the biggest coffee mugs in the free world. No, wait. I think the book called them “soup mugs” because only idiots like me would consume such high quantities of caffeine.)Take note that those blurry lines trailing from my ears are actually hot pink earbuds. It’s just dark, so they only look like vertical creases of fat rolls. Really, I was listening to an archived recording of the most boring lecture on the planet. Of special consideration? The ultra-nerdy reading glasses because I am getting old as dirt.

Wait, is it……Could it be that…..Yep, it is. I’ve done it. I’ve lost my damned mind.

I’m giving this Portrait of Sexiness/ Insanity/ Mild Retardation a title.

We’re going to call it “Crazy Bitch Dances with Corporate Fucking Finance in the Middle of the Night”. You’re Welcome!

The X Factor

Well, aside from the fact that this picture is decidedly shittaaaaaay, what else is depicted here? My new batch of texts for the next 5 weeks: Operations Management and Corporate Farking Finance. Fabulous.

And thus I bring you the obligatory school update of the seemingly professional student. I still have a 4.0. Yay. I will be finished with the biz degree in exactly one year from now. I thought, with this being the last 12 months, I should get some more info about my MBA, and so the drama I am currently facing started up for me.

I started with my original plan of looking at the online program for the school I am currently attending. And I looked at some of my local options: Northern Kentucky, University of Cincinnati, University of Kentucky… Why in the hell is it that my current school doesn’t require a GMAT or GRE? Hmmm. All of the others do. Turns out that while my current program is great and challenging and actually a little demanding, the MBA is a little less than optimal. And about $20K above any of the local programs. But in my research of local programs, I discovered something interesting. Xavier.

Xavier, or X as we locals call it, is 15 minutes from my house and they have a wealth of MBA programs for the working professional. And guess what else! Their business school is friggin’ nationally ranked one of the top. Hell-to-the-yeah. But it said right there on their site that admission was very competitive. They only admit about 8% of applicants. And I am getting a degree from an online institution from across the country as a non-traditional student with a background in the clinical aspect of healthcare, not the administrative side. How competitive could I really be? So I called.

Basically I discovered that I am very competitive mainly due to my GPA and references. For their top-notch program. And after a very lengthy discussion where I inquired about the option for a concentration in healthcare management in order to use my MBA to climb the ladder at the hospital, I was told something entirely different. As in dual degree: MBA/ MHA. The last being Masters of Healthcare Administration. Holla. But there is a slight problem. Instead of approaching this toward the end of the next 12 months, I have to rush a little. In order to apply for loans and/or scholarships (which the woman basically begged  me to apply for scholarships due to my GPA), I have to gain early admission. Well, unless I can simply write a check for about $50K, which I most definitely cannot. And to gain early admission, I have to take the GMAT Stat! As in sometime in the next 5 months or so. Which means I have to prepare for the damned thing. In addition to the insane amout of reading and paper-writing. And the crap that is going down at work (new NICU startup: rounds at Children’s Hospital, immunizations and background checks, meetings and new certifications, higher credentialing). And Evan starting school. And John starting his classes.

Sorry. This has turned into another post of my bitching about my busy life. But really, I’m excited. I’ve basically been guarunteed admission to a private university with a top business program. The plan is falling into place with such ease that I am wondering if someone somewhere is not trying to tell me that this is what I should have been doing all along. I still have these moments of sadness about would-be Dr. Andrea. About what I could have been if only… In these moments, I choose instead to focus on the gifts I have been given. Beautiful, healthy children. A loving and enduring marriage to a wonderful man. A career in an industry I love. Academic ability…And I focus on what is to come. Because, damnit, I will  do this.

Hard Evidence That I Suck at Life Right Now

I’m sick. Not deathly ill, but just a little under the weather. And what comes with feeling a little under the weather? I have absolutely no desire to do anything.

My house is a mess. Not just any mess, mind you. No, it’s a mess. I’m choosing to call it crackhouse-chic. As in nothing is where it should be. I am sitting at my desk right now, and I am appalled at the clutter. A dirty coffee mug, abandoned and empty and left there most likely at 3AM when I was awake in the wee hours trying to get a paper submitted by a deadline. An empty OJ bottle from when I grabbed some juice from the cafeteria on the way out of work on what was my fourth night in a row at that hell hole. Camera, cell, and mp3 player, all with their affiliated charges and USB cables, in a jumble of wires. My purse, unzipped and laying on its side, with contents strewn out across the space. I think this is the remnant of the search for my sunglasses for our walk yesterday. And there are about three empty inhalers.

Empty inhalers from where I have been wheezing like a freak for the past few days, to the point that coworkers would tell me, “Andrea, take your inhaler.” Because they could hear my dysfunctional lungs. It has yet to be seen if this is due to the fact that I have allergies like a mofo, I have been coming down with something, or a few days ago, I was taking puffs off of an inhaler that apparently was involved in a freak body-spray-leakage and thus drenched in the stuff. Nothing like Victoria’s Secret’s Strawberries and Champagne fumes all up in your lungs. Anyhow, I think it was the second one, that I’m coming down with something, simply because yesterday, the other stuff started: runny nose, cough, achiness.

But my dysfunction isn’t limited to the desk. Let’s discuss the kitchen table. Diaper bag. A stack of board games that have been uprooted from their home when Zach started really  walking, and we realized he could reach them, complete with their choking-hazard little pieces. As in, “What’s that in Zachy’s lung? Oh, it’s a family member from the Game of Life–not sure if it’s mommy or daddy because the pink or blue doesn’t show up on an x-ray and he’s gonna need a bronchoscopy to get it dislodged from his bronchiole so we can know…” But I digress. What else? Text books. Mine. From where Ev spilled juice the other day and John made a mad dash to save the (quite literally) thousands of dollars’ worth of what is essentially paper and cardboard and ink. There’s also a bottle of shampoo that never found its way to the bathroom when groceries were put away…two weeks ago. A bottle of multi-purpose cleaner…ditto.  The list goes on and on.

I’ve fallen behind on my blog, as well as reading others’.

Evan starts school in 2 weeks. T-W-O. I have not bought him a single school supply. He needs all new uniforms this year, from short sleeve to long sleeve, shorts to pants. Hell, he even needs new gym clothes. That one is all the school’s fault: we wore whatever for gym class when I was a kid. Evan has to have navy sweats and plain white t-shirts. And he needs new shoes….Gah.

The day before Ev starts school, John does as well. He can get his own damned books. He’s a big boy.

I am finishing up my e-commerce class. Next up is corporate finance and  operations management, Don’t be jealous. Actually, I have the overwhelming feeling that those two are going to suck when put together in the same 5 weeks. I have this week and next to not have to worry about it, so screw it. And I must admit that I have coasted by on my e-commerce. But I also have a perfect score right now with only 2 assignments left to submit. Oh wait, I lied. I missed 5 points on last paper because I forgot to close the parentheses on one of my citations. So I may only get a fucking 99.9%. Pffft.

I have a mandatory meeeting coming up as well. For the NICU. I’m on the list to go there. As a result, I have to go and spend some time at Cincinnati Children’s RCNIC (Regional Center for Neonatal Intensive Care). Sweet baby Jesus, help me. Because I can keep my shit together when it counts. But then, once it is all over, the baby is saved, and it is time to move on, I think of mine. I picture Zach and Evan and what could have been with either one of them, and I break down. Well, there, that is all I’m going to see for 8 hours a day until my rotation is over. These are the gods of the neonatal world. Other specialty children’s hospitals send them the shit they can’t handle. Actually, they’re ranked number 3 in the nation. 3. Out of God-knows-how-many. This will be so exciting, yet so emotionally and mentally stressful. I can wait on that, too.

I have to come up with 36 continuing education credits in order to renew my creds with the National Board for Respiratory Care. Yeah. I actually don’t have to have that finished, but I need to ensure that all of my credits count before the deadline, so I have time to replace the ones that do not count. Either that, or I can sit for my credentialing exams all over again. No, thank you.

So the bottom line is that I have a lot of crap to do, and no gumption to do any of it. Yes, I suck at life right now.