Monthly Report Card: Still Less A's Than in My Bra Size
A few days ago, a second-grade child was granted the unfortunate experience of riding in an elevator with me. While scrambling to gracelessly shove a hardcover book into her backpack, Masha caught a few words of the girl’s whining to her mother. In an impressively shrill whine, the girl vented to her mother:
“I just don’t understand how Mrs.B thinks she can do that! A D! How do I deserve a “Developing?!?!” Just because I didn’t fill out my reading log! You don’t understand - they’re so stupid! I’m the only kid in the whole class reading chapter books!”
This vent hit home with me more strongly than any speech I've heard recently that promised to “Move Me To Tears,", and against any notions of maturity or politeness I probably should have developed by now, I couldn’t resist chiming in.
“Oh trust me I get you! Freaking reading logs - I was reading Jack London in fourth grade and almost failed “Sustained Silent Reading.”
The elevator door opened. The girl gave me an incredibly satisfying smile of understanding and comradery. The mother hit me with an expression that conveyed to me quite perfectly that a) My enthusiastic sympathy in no way consistent with whatever “Serious Fashion Lady” image she’d read off me, and b) That I’d probably just made her morning a whole lot harder.
As Masha walked to the subway station that morning, she realized that it’s been an awfully long time since she’d actually gotten a report card. And that’s a pity. In a way, I almost miss the adrenaline rush that came with handing over the Scary Manila Envelope to Mama and Papa, hoping to be deemed worthy of whatever science kit was the pinnacle of my desires at the moment.
So I figured I’d give myself one. Don’t worry, it’s 100% Serious and Legitimate. I used a red pen and everything. So, Masha, here it is. I’m handing this to you the same way I’ve slipped transcripts to my parental unit for years now: here’s the report, and here’s my personal disclaimer. Something about how the barometric pressure outside hasn’t been ideal for cognitive function. Maybe there have just been way too many Thursdays lately. You know, I’ve just been really, really busy.
Blogging
I am almost surprised to report that Masha has actually stuck to her resolution to publish her writing regularly. This blog has not been been abandoned and left to stand in that weird ghost-town of unused online pages yet to be taken down, kept company by some MLM promo sites and wedding webpages of divorced couples. Granted, this is all far from perfect, and figuring out how to create decent-looking pages has a greater learning curve than any curve on Masha’s body. However, this month-old blog is a month longer-lived than last year’s resolution to learn juggling, so I’ll grant Masha the “E” for effort.
The Real-Live Actual Book!
Masha has actually kept with her promise to invest time and effort into finishing her final edit of her Hopefully-Real-Live-Actual-Book that will allow her to live her dream of becoming a Real-Live-Actual-Writer. I may actually call in as consult the owner of her favourite local coffee store, who can confirm that this girl has spent over 30 dollars on shots of espresso while getting her work done there. The owner of said coffee shop would like to take a moment to remind Masha that she’s supposed to be good with finances and not waste money on coffee. However, everyone needs to believe in something, right? Masha believes she can publish a book. She also believes she will have another cup of coffee.
Self Care
Masha has promised herself that she would put some effort into treating herself and her body ever so slightly better than the MTA has been treating its late-night ridership. (On a side note, it really would be lovely to get home in less than 2 hours.) In any case, Masha has finally allowed herself to embrace how much happier disciplined yoga practice and regular meditation make her. Yes, Masha does actually meditate for at least 20 minutes daily, and yes that has become the butt of a fair amount of jokes with some people (the only butt comments of any sort I’ll ever get, but oh well.) On a side note, Masha has unfortunately also capitalized on Decembers’ amassing of various secret-santa gifted scented candles and lotions that happens to many caucasian-appearing females. The whole house now smells like an atomic bomb exploded in a Bath and Body Works. I hope she’s satisfied.
Reading
Assuming that Masha has not grown over the past month, progress has been made on this front. I will, however, take a small deduction from Masha’s grade as a compensation for all of the subway passengers whom Masha has bumped into with hard cover books, and for the fact that Masha once pointed at one of these titles and declined plans saying: “My weekend is all booked.” Someone needs to slap her.
Nourish
This month in particular, Masha is more grateful than ever to have her health remain stable, and to be able to enjoy so many filling, delicious foods in an environment ever so much happier than the one she was in at this time last year, and has come to accept that her grandmother will forever call her a “Horrific Herbivorous Hipster.” An area for improvement, however, would be to finally allow herself to get more than 2 hours of sleep a night, so Masha could stop running on enough caffeine to disqualify an entire track team.
Stretch
Points deducted, because no neighbours should ever have to hear “I SAT ON MY HAIR IN MY SPLIT AGAIN! THAT REALLY FRIES MY GRITS." Besides that, solid effort.
Final Comments:
In January, Masha has surprisingly seemingly managed to avoid setting pathetically low personal standards and consistently failing to achieve them. She can now go buy the science kit and explode vinegar all over her kitchen. Hope you all had an amazing month, and wishing you many more happy months to come!
