Resolution
Thanks to my little vacation in Puko-Barfo Land, it's become abundantly clear that there is absolutely no way I can accomplish what I'd set out to do by coming back to Big City a week before the new term was set to begin. But I figured I could try to salvage some self-respect today by doing things I'd been contemplating for a long time and somehow never quite managed to do.
So, in addition to spending an obscene amount of money at Kinko's while putting my course reader together and doing a little drug-store shopping, I:
1) got extra keys made
2) had three of my watches repaired
3) finally followed up on the advice of Dr. B., Dr. V., and others by getting an honest-to-God bra fitting (And let me tell you, I was shocked by how very, very wrong the measurements I'd been using for the past decade were. I am going to add my voice to the evangelizing chorus on this one: Friends of the breast-having persuasion, get thee to a Nordstrom's!)
4) signed myself up for martial arts classes at a dojang near my apartment.
Now, though items 1-3 are pretty significant, item 4 is terrifying. I've wanted to do this for well over ten years, but both the expense of good training and the very strong probablility that I'd look like a total fool in front of other people have held me back.
I don't think there's any chance of avoiding the latter of those two scenarios, since I fully expect my doughy ass to be hitting the floor in any number of humiliating ways for some time to come. But the Master who runs the dojang has agreed to let me train there at half price if I'll help out around the place for about three hours each week. So I'm in--at least, provided that I pass the private "audition" lesson on Monday.
So, in addition to spending an obscene amount of money at Kinko's while putting my course reader together and doing a little drug-store shopping, I:
1) got extra keys made
2) had three of my watches repaired
3) finally followed up on the advice of Dr. B., Dr. V., and others by getting an honest-to-God bra fitting (And let me tell you, I was shocked by how very, very wrong the measurements I'd been using for the past decade were. I am going to add my voice to the evangelizing chorus on this one: Friends of the breast-having persuasion, get thee to a Nordstrom's!)
4) signed myself up for martial arts classes at a dojang near my apartment.
Now, though items 1-3 are pretty significant, item 4 is terrifying. I've wanted to do this for well over ten years, but both the expense of good training and the very strong probablility that I'd look like a total fool in front of other people have held me back.
I don't think there's any chance of avoiding the latter of those two scenarios, since I fully expect my doughy ass to be hitting the floor in any number of humiliating ways for some time to come. But the Master who runs the dojang has agreed to let me train there at half price if I'll help out around the place for about three hours each week. So I'm in--at least, provided that I pass the private "audition" lesson on Monday.
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