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Here I am coming up on the one month anniversary since my youngest left for college, and I’ve decided to give myself an evaluation.  Have I adjusted to the empty nest syndrome?  Er… Well, judging from the number of times my husband comes into the room and finds me crying for no good reason, I’d have to grudgingly say no.  The house is just too quiet.  Of course I have signed myself up for a ridiculous amount of extra activities like helping with field trips at the nature preserve and tutoring, none of which gives me more time to write.  I have lots of projects that need to be finished.  My garden is only half weeded.  A partially completed painting waits on its easel.  Then there’s that quilt I promised to my niece.  Those family history puzzles still beg to be solved.  And I have all these stories that need to be written down and refined.  I have lots to do!  That’s not the problem.
The most embarrassing moments come when I’m in public.  Once it was a situation with the kids in my class at church, who were crying at the top of their lungs when I pulled them out into the hall.  I’m the teacher.  I’m supposed to have control, to be in control.  But instead, I was crying along with them, and we were surrounded by people staring at me.  Now that was embarrassing!  It was enough to make me slink home and think about never coming back.  Then the other day someone told a story, and something about it just whammed me over the head, or should I say the heart, and the waterworks started in earnest.  I’ve never claimed to be a logical person, but it would be nice if I were just a little more like Spock.  Serene.  In control.  Logical.  I’ve always admired Jim Kirk’s Vulcan friend from the Enterprise.  He was the perfect counterpart to Jim’s impulsive recklessness.  (I was very glad they included him in the new Star Trek movies.)  Well, the house is way too quiet again tonight, and I can’t force myself to concentrate on anything that needs to be done.  Hey, it’s not as if I didn’t do anything today.  I went two miles this morning on the treadmill, went to the funeral for my friend’s son, got lost, finally made it back home, and did some chores.  I deserve a break.  I think I’ll read a book.

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