It’s hard to be motivated when you’re entering the final week of the quarter and you’re overwhelmed. Sometimes it’s just easier to crawl back into bed.

Too bad that I dreamed about research when I finally did go to bed. You’d think I deserve a break. Too bad I didn’t get anything accomplished with this so-called research in my dreams.

I’m very glad to be almost finished with this quarter. I am going to need the paltry few days off between quarters to unwind. Then there’s all the things I’ve probably committed myself to. I need to work on this, that, and yeah, I have a book on alternative librarianship to read.

I think my biggest goal, after finishing the last of my projects, is to sleep in until I damned well feel like getting up. And watch lots and lots of TV. And take a drive. And get out of this damned house!

Wish I could crawl back into bed. It’s sad that my main motivation this morning to finish my homework might be the thought of leaving the house as a reward. So I can go to the bank and get my car washed. Yeah, that’s the excitement in my life.

Help…

I don’t mind the work but I do mind never having any free time and the thought of getting a less than optimal grade because I took too much on myself.

If I continue the pace I’ve been keeping — the one that’s killing me, mind you — I can graduate in December. A year and a few months after first starting my library and information science education.

Here’s my misgivings:

• I haven’t worked in the field. The job market is harsh. My concentration is in a slightly less traditional area, but one that is growing. I don’t know exactly where I’m going to end up after graduation. As if I didn’t have enough problems trying to get a job in my old field, where I at least had more than 15 years of experience.
• I am spending a lot of money for grad school.
• I thought — as did many of my fellow students — that I would have more on-campus offerings available. Without getting into details, plans to have on-campus classes last quarter fell through. All of my coursework for this grueling quarter is done online.  If I wanted an online program, I could’ve chosen one much cheaper than this one.
• Now I’ve found out that one of my on-campus classes has been technically canceled and moved online because of low enrollment. Luckily, the prof is dedicated to teaching it to us physically anyway. I woke up rip-roaring mad, and now she’s at least reduced some of my anger and frustration.

The problem is with being mad is that I’ve actually taken enough classes that I’m enjoying myself. I know so much more than I did in September. I’m not a quitter — let’s not bring up the five-year undergrad hiatus — but I do know when the odds are against me. If I didn’t have so much loan money spent, I probably would give serious thought to the idea of quitting or transferring.

I feel a big disconnect from the sense of community that many of the graduate students on my satellite campus have. The other programs generally aren’t having problems like mine. I’ve sorta been volunteered to do some communications stuff and I’ve also volunteered to serve as a student ambassador for spring orientation. But now I question why I should bother. I’m already expending a lot of time and effort for a place that didn’t think through the demand or demographics for this program.

And the quarters in the future don’t look much better than this one; because my classmates have different interests and many of them are taking a slower route, it’s unlikely that I will be able to take any other classes on campus. There just won’t be enough demand for the stuff I need to take for my concetration.

What’s more disappointing to me is that I didn’t have a normal undergraduate experience and I thought at least with graduate school, I might get some of what I was missing back.

So, no, I’m still not having a normal experience. I can’t do anything right.

I’d like to tell myself that the education will all pay off, but I’m not sure I believe that this morning. At least not as cranky as I currently am.

Let’s just say I’m annoyed with people.

I’m annoyed with know-it-alls who don’t actually contribute anything positive to a discussion, and in fact, disrespect their colleagues, whether that’s in a educational or professional setting.

I’m also annoyed by people who take and don’t give. Who don’t remember you exist until they need something. Who insist on ignoring all of your good advice, especially the solicited stuff.

You know what? I’m not helping any more. I’m a giver but I’m not stupid, and I’m not a pushover. Well, maybe I am, but I’ve had enough.

But it finally is starting to make sense, and it’s starting to feel like home.

When I came here, I had a little bit of a bad attitude. Freshly unemployed and without direction, I moved up here as I was losing my house, my identity and  my comfort zone.

Last night, I had a genuine “I live here” moment. And it’s cool.

Friend Sarah was visiting us for the first time, and we insisted on showing her the city. You come to the capital, and you get a tour. Or the tour of Sacramento as we know it, which is probably pretty entertaining in its big, gaping holes and attention to parks and the first time we ate somewhere. (You can tell we love food.)

We went to an Irish pub on J Street, and Sarah, who wanted to meet Irish guys, was disappointed by the lack of hot Irish guys and the taste of Irish whiskey. But we had a blast. It was fun to remember what good times we had with this Fresno friend, and good to show her around.

Then we ended up walking blocks and blocks to Thai Basil. I’m normally not a walker. I don’t have a problem walking somewhere, but it’s the walk back that I don’t like. However far you go, you still have to come back. We probably walked three miles round trip. But the air was crisp, we were enjoying ourselves, and finally, we were walking through the relatively healthy night life of a real city.

Then the greatest moment happened. Heather, who played for a while in a local tango band, mentioned that her friend from the tango band, Winko, would be nearby.

Winko literally is a one-man band. I’d heard much about his penchant for purple and his talent for music. And then the van.

We tried to explain to Sarah that we would be getting in his van.

“What? Where are we going? Why are we getting in his van?”

“You’ll see,” Heather says, though she actually hadn’t been in the Acoustic Sanctuary, as it’s called.

Neon lights beckoned and from inside, behind a black curtain, we could hear music and laughter.

We sat down for an intimate, entertaining time as Winko played music or told stories after prompts from his tiny audience.  There were already a couple of people in there, so it was a very tight fit; most of the back of the van is taken up by Winko’s instruments, including a piano.

I had a marvelous time. I felt like this was something you could only find in a city, with this brilliant man bringing laughter and joy in an unexpected place. And we were able to experience something cool like this and share it with a friend.

Afterward, we ate at Thai Basil. I don’t know if it’s the best Thai restaurant in town, but it’s certainly the one we’ve been to most often, and was actually one of the first places we ate in Sacramento when coming to visit before moving up here.

Do I have favorite places in town? Yes. Do I know how to get to Trader Joe’s yet? Unfortunately not. But I’m getting better, and printing out directions make up for my lack of direction sense.

We’re getting better at giving tours, though they’re still sometimes punctuated by “we don’t have time to explore because we’re in school.” I’m even able to chime in on occasion.

I no longer resent leaving my house. This place finally feels like home to me. I’m proud to show it off to other people. And I can say without reservation that Sacramento, warts and all, is better than Fresno. Even though I always knew that, I wanted to defend my former home, probably because I was still harboring some lingering resentment for leaving my home.

The only thing I’m missing — besides a job, of course — is my friends. We seldom get to see our friends now, and I haven’t made any close friends up here, and none of my own. I’m really isolated here. I had another puzzle piece moment last week, though, when I met up with my classmates for something at school.

I didn’t realize how much I missed them, and how easy it was to talk about the things we had in common, especially since we hadn’t seen each other in a couple of months. I don’t know whether I’ll ever get to be friends friends with them, but it was nice to chat. None of them pointed out the piece of cookie that roosted on my face for probably half the time I was there, though. True friends tell you that. : ) Or laugh at you after watching you for a while.

I guess it’s taken me a while to get acclimated to Sacramento because of that friends thing. That’s the last part that is still lacking. Maybe I shouldn’t wait for friends to come to me. Just like the city wasn’t going to come to me, either.

I’m always lobbying for people to visit. I’d really love to show my dad and stepmom around, and now that my brother is less encumbered than he was on his previous visit to California, I wish there was some way to get him to visit too. I guess I just want to share what I love with the people I love. I think of places I can take them, if only they will come.

I briefly contemplated the idea of going home between quarters in late March and eventually ruled it out because:

• I’m underemployed and therefore broke.
• I am so stressed it would be nice to sit on my butt for a week between quarters, rather than  brave the perils of the inefficient air transportation system.
• I don’t have a cat sitter and I feel uncomfortable asking for favors from people I don’t know that well.
• Running around and trying to see all of my favorite people in Michiana will also be stressful. I feel stretched thin, like too little butter on too much bread, to quote Bilbo Baggins.
• I want to scrape up enough money to go to the American Library Association annual conference in Washington D.C. It’s a good excuse to meet up with my buddy, and also get a tour of the awesome place he works at. I don’t think I can justify two plane trips.

I miss my family terribly. Don’t get me wrong. My brother is going through a rough time, and I haven’t seen my family since Christmas 2008.

But I’ve learned some important things about myself or grad school since I started.

• I like being busy, but I do enjoy the occasional evening off. This quarter, I feel very guilty when I do that. In fact, I did nothing yesterday except reread a lecture and sleep. I’m feeling the after-effects today as I struggle to finish some work I should’ve done yesterday. And now I’m being punished because my internet went out, and I had to go elsewhere to work. Panera gets all my money these days.
• I like sleeping. This grad student doesn’t get enough sleep.
• If a professor suggests you do not take more than one other class with a certain class: LISTEN. Do not think, oh, I’ve done this before. I can handle this. Well, Mel B. *can* handle anything, but it’s apparently at the expense of sleep, and what’s left of my sunny disposition. Those who know me well know I don’t actually have one. But I thought I’d throw that in for kicks and giggles.
• There is never enough time in the day. Naps, while nice, may make it worse. It’s hard to recover from a late night when you can’t stay awake the next day.
• Planning your days is everything. Make sure you get your work done on a certain day, even if it’s not due that day. It give you leeway for when the wheels fall of the bus, like they did last week.
• I have absolutely no idea how people do this when they have kids. None. I’m only doing this by force of will, because I’m stubborn. Taking a full-load on a quarter system is a very bad idea.

I think I would enjoy my classes more if I weren’t so busy. I’m an overachiever these days, apparently, in contrast to my lackadaisical high school and undergrad days, when I never did my best, but I still managed to get good grades. Now I want to get good grades and work hard. Imagine that. Of course, grad school is costing me much more than undergrad did.

I had one of my classic tornado dreams last night, and this morning I wondered where it came from. This time, I think I can say stress. First, I dreamed that I handed in an assignment to a professor in the next quarter, and without even looking at the assignment, she just wrote C on the front cover. I was devastated and asked if I could rework it. No, she said, and wouldn’t allow further discussion. I’ve had a class with this prof in real life, and doubt she would treat me in this way. I was puzzled by this and then in my dream, tried to psych myself up to go ask her to at least tell me what was wrong with the assignment, so I could do it better next time.

Then the tornado came. I saw heavy clouds swirling, hanging over what appeared to be my neighbor’s yard. As I watched, a white circle of clouds formed and then slowly crawled down to create a funnel. As I watched, it shifted over and around to directly barrel down my short back yard.

At first, I was happy I was seeing a tornado for real. Again, I was convinced the dream was real, as opposed to my sometimes half-lucid realizations that I might be dreaming.

Then I realized the tornado was coming toward me, and that it was going to shatter the windows of my flimsy house, and probably me with it.

I couldn’t do anything. There wasn’t anywhere to hide. I was upset, realizing I would likely die, but I couldn’t even move. My thoughts moved much faster than the tornado, and therefore time seemed to slow down.

Just as the funnel cloud got right next to the window,  it sucked up back into the sky and vanished. Saved at the last moment. Later, I looked at the destruction around me, including the mess the storm had made of the other side of the duplex. But I was left unharmed, and so was my house.

So now that I write this, I think stress, reprieve, and knowing you shouldn’t do something, but do it anyway.

I was happy to be alive, and I’m happy to be in grad school, even if it throws me into a paralyzing semi-panic sometimes. It’ll be OK, I just don’t know when. Possibly not until the break between quarters.