Here is the view I imagine from my window when I wake up every morning...
Here is the actual view that I woke up to this morning...
Snowmageddon 2011 and the subsequent closing of the entire state of Oklahoma made my goal of a four-hour work week one step closer to reality. I am obsessed with Half Price Books and saw this book there yesterday. What's not to love? It's not that I don't want to work...I do. I just have lots of other things I want to do too. Like write a novel (I'm working on it) and spend hours in Whole Foods. Rachel Green basically worked about four hours a week, and she ended up with Ross and Emma and a job at Ralph Lauren. Totally realistic, right? I thought so.
My mom (referred to from here on as "The Chief") asked what I would do with my other 36 hours. I responded that I would be like the Pioneer Woman. Wouldn't it be lovely to write, blog and cook all day? That is basically my dream life. Apparently, comparing myself to the Pioneer Woman was pretty much the funniest thing I have ever said. The Chief sincerely hopes there is a big city equivalent of the Pioneer Woman that I can aspire to, because the words "pioneer" and "Katie" have never, ever been spoken in the same sentence. On a related note, I will be making Paula Deen's seven-cheese, from-scratch lasagna for dinner tonight (no really, I'm not joking). All who want to brave the 29 inches of snow in my driveway are welcome. Please bring appropriate amounts of tiramisu.
Here is why a four-hour work week is a good idea. Awkward things happen to me at work. As a 27-year-old student affairs administrator and professor at a college where the average student age is 27, awkwardness is bound to occur. Students either think I'm ridiculously awesome (clearly the truth), also a student, or totally out of touch, since they are 27 and a community college student and I am 27 and a doctoral student (yep, that's right, I said it). The result is always uncomfortable, flattering or both.
Student affairs is equal parts cheerleader and coach. Like yesterday, when I received an email informing me that a student would not be on campus, because his "baby momma" had a doctor's appointment. SO proud for emailing to let me know, SO proud for taking responsibility and going to the doctor with her, SO need to talk about referring to her as "baby momma." When I received the email, I was grading journals for class. Their assignment was to write about three goals they had for this semester and how they planned to achieve those goals. Easy enough, right? Over the years, this assignment has provided the single-best source of entertainment in my work life. Up until now, my favorite goal a student submitted was "not get pregnant." Valid goal. I've also heard "try not to have any kids." I particularly like the use of the word "try" with that one. Yesterday, my student described two awesome goals related to doing well in school. The third goal for the semester is to take me on a date. Complete with a plan on how to achieve that goal. In his defense, I told them I wasn't grading the content of the journal, just whether they followed directions. Got to give the kid credit for having a goal.
For the record, I gave the kid full points on the assignment and turned him down for dinner. Just this once, I would like to get asked to dinner by someone who would not cause me to lose my job. Is that really too much to ask?
I just found out there's no such thing as the real world, just a lie you've got to rise above.