Frustration Ratio and Perportion

At the moment I have homework to do. Lots of it.  I managed to do an amazing stupid yesterday. Which was saved by a sweet voiced lady at the Bus station who snagged my drawing board and set it aside for me after I made the horrifying discovery that I had gotten on the bus without it. I explained the problem to the art teacher and she extended the hand in for me.  Bless them both.
I was beyond frustrated with trying to download the soft ware that I needed for the main class I am taking.  Problem solved with nice people this weekend. 
Then comes the problem of actually doing the homework.  I don't understand this soft ware and how it works, figuring it out runs into one of the things that is really hard for me to deal with.  It does not work the way my brain thinks it should.  Carving a new path in there, one that does not have any familiar things to hang my learning on takes  repetition of a kind that teachers don't get.  Like, 

• tell me three times in the same way.
•  Show me three times, talking as you go. 
• Run me through it three times with me clicking the buttons, 
• and then do it again, and again, and again. 

And why do I need this done? because I have a brain injury.
 I am in new territory, I need a three pronged tell, see, do. and then practice practice practice to learn this stuff.
 The ratio is 3:1 to learn one thing I need to be told three times, I need to see it three times, and I need to do it three times.  and then I need to wait a day and do it again. I am spending a lot of time on small stuff.   
People tell me that it gets easier over time, and on one hand I know this is true. Then I sit in front of the screen and I can't remember the things I need to do.   The frustration ratio is also 3:1.  I am frustrated by things three times for every one I can get and do with my own laborious process of learning.
 I never did get to making cookie dough, and right now I think cookie dough would be a very good thing indeed... Excuse me I have something I need to do now, in the kitchen.

So how's it going?

Well this week has been a learning curve if ever there was one.  Next week will be one too.  I am going to be a lot stronger by the end of the semester than I am now and most likely more organized as well.  I know when to get on the bus, and where to get off and that walking a mile is faster than waiting for the bus on certain routes.
 I know that my books are effing heavy and that the drawing board is going to be a pain in the ass.  I am taking steps to remedy what I can.  Meantime I got at least part of the homework done and set up to get the rest finished on time.
 I have been eating healthy food all week, and I feel the need for salt, grease, sugar and burnt black crunchy bits. I'm going to get a small pizza, and I think I will make cookie dough, and I think I will bake a batch, and eat them.

Comparison pics

 this was the basement right after Mr Footless died.

This is the basement as of last night. It has been a long road. Many thanks to the many people who participated.  They cleaned, threw, sorted, lugged, dragged, hauled and hung out, ate with me, laughed and did donation runs to ARC and Habitat and the dump.

To them I owe much I will never be able to repay.

The G forces have been messing with my mind

I have commented on the  surprising way that  things have changed for me over the past going on three years. Nothing moved much, things were stagnant and then when I chose to change, it all moved unbelievably fast, wild, and in so many unexpected directions.
This last week my brain began having problems. 
I am putting the last pieces into place for going back to school and that means that I am at the point where I need to rehearse things like getting from point A to point B on the bus. 

•  I need to know when to start, 
• which bus to take 
• how much time to expect walking at both ends, 
• what do I need to take for a day, 
• how much that is going to weigh, 
• what  containers will I pack it in and 
• where in my gigungous pack will it live.

I am not going to use Lucille my sturdy reliable truck, because Lucille leaves me tied to a vehicle and parking is a ring tailed bitch on campus. To say nothing about road construction, trains and the efforts of the city fathers to isolate the very north east end of this town from the rest of town.  The way things are  set up right now you can't get there from here without going way out of the way.  The bus will be much less stressful once I have it settled in my head.
I personally dislike being tied to a vehicle, it leaves me feeling trapped.  It isn't rational, it just is. 
This is all lead in to my adventures in my brain.
I have been taking the bus to places  to get used to the system and suddenly I find myself unable to send a coherent text.  I am on the bus headed west, and I can't send a text that says west, I type west and what comes out on the phone is east, or senseless garbage.
 My task is to take something to a place, drop it off and pick up something else. I do the drop off and then I walk out the door three times without putting the pick up in my pack.  It is sitting on the table, and I can't seem to get it into the pack and out the door.
After the third time  through I am in tears of frustration with being unable to do what I need.
Then I am panicked. If I can't do something so simple as this, how on earth will I manage a full class load?
Well what I finally figured out is that when I am over stressed, my brain reverts to injured brain mode.
 I sat down and ran through all the things that have changed in just the past year, not to think of the two years before that.  One of my teachers (thank you Wendy for all the work you have done) explained that if you can manage 2% change in a year you are doing really well.  These past two years I have changed something like 35% of my life Per Year.
If I wasn't somewhat stressed I would be in some kind of crazy land.   I went and fed myself and I went home and unwound.  I will be OK, I just need to be respectful of the forces of change that I am  encountering. Slow down, breathe and center.
It is the G forces.  Calm down. When the time comes, I will be alright,

The element of Surprise.

nothing succeeds like success.  I baked this bread from yeast that was growing in an elderly yoghurt container  in the throw out pile from the fridge.  It is too hot to cut to eat but you can bet that it will be tested repeatedly for flavor, texture and that illusive element of !surprise!

Bowling down the runway.

Things are set.  I have the books, supplies, bus pass, back pack, classes, schedule, calendar, pens flash drive, folders, and all but one building sussed out.  I still don't know where the art class is.  I am as ready as a little kid with a cape, swim goggles, dish washing gloves, cowboy hat and a wooden sword and a shield. Like that kid I am not quite sure exactly what it is that I am ready for.  I just know that I have gotten myself as ready as I can.  Then like a duck trying to take off from dry land I will be galloping wildly across the fields flapping my wings and bounding from hummock to hummock in an effort to be airborne.  I may not make it into the air. I may just provide any of the watchers with a really entertaining view with a good laugh at the end of it.
Ready or not, Here I come.

New goals new direction

I wonder where I will be come the first of June.  What do I want to have done? how much of what I want will be actually possible? 
Here are some of the things I want to see happen.

• Finish the first semester of the AutoCad course, with a B or better average.
• Clear out the basement, repaint and re floor with all that means.
• Get a better handle on meeting my basic needs
• Be prepared for the fall semester financially and Fafsa wise
• Improve my strength and flexibility, especially the upper body, and my stamina.

You would think that this looks like an entirely doable list but I am not sure of what I will be able to do besides the first one, that and dance. I will definitely be able to do that.

Looking back, Looking forward

Yesterday on the last day of the year, I took the last things out of my office and officially moved the remnants back home.
 Last year at this time I was still in two residences.  My house was still a hoarded mess, The dumpster was still being filled.  Thirty hours a week was going to an unpaid job, and twenty hours to other clients.  I was working on the process, the task at hand was to get into one place.
Last year the task at hand was to sort out the good from the dreck.
If I look at what I have done, I have come a million miles in this year. I am a better stronger person, but it isn't at all the person I thought it might be.
I never expected that I would be letting go of my healing practice.
 I never imagined that I might have another relationship. 
It wasn't on my radar that I would walk out on someone I considered a friend.
Dancing was small part of who and what I was. 
School wasn't anywhere in the picture.
Now here I am.
Danceing is a big part of my life.
I left the "friend" and moved on.
there is someone there for me.
My healing practice is taking back seat to something else.
In three weeks I will be back in school, to train in something that is entirely different from anything I have done in the past.
I have no idea where this will lead but it looks like new.
 I can use new.