People You May Know

They're getting in my head

I went to a birthday party last weekend, and spent most of the time chatting with a lawyer who had two toddlers running around. She knew a lot about home health care so my brother and her talked shop, and I stood there, nodding a lot. She was quirky, nice and, most importantly, looks like she enjoys drinking beer and getting loud.
Fast forward two days, and I get an email from LinkedIn. The subject line read 'People You May Know' and a picture of the girl I met at my friend's party, was looking right at me.
"Is LinkedIn stalking me?" My best guess is they got their intel from the group Evite. Anyways, it was a nice way for me to reach out to her. "Umm, yeah, so I'm not cyber stalking you, but LinkedIn is. Weird, right?"

I've had a cold this week, and because of it, we couldn't see my family for Easter since we'd pass the germs on to my sister's new baby. I used NyQuil the first couple nights, and had consistent early bed times. Last night, I figured I'd take a night off because I don't need a NyQuil addiction creeping up on me. I had work to do anyways. My couple nights of NyQuil induced sleep supplied me plenty of bad dreams where I went back to work after spring break, and was unprepared from doing nothing for 14 days.
I was emailed yesterday by the family I tutor, they decided they aren't going to continue having me tutor their daughter since she failed another test, and has to take summer school. It sucks that she failed. I would have liked to contribute towards her succeeding, not the other way around. The last time we had a session she was falling asleep at the table so I don't think it's a brain problem, but a time problem.
My mother warned me about this when I told her I was signing Kiki up for music lessons. She said, "Be careful, Alicia. There was this thing when you guys were growing up called 'the over scheduled child,' where kids gets anxiety and stressed because they are driven from one activity to the next and don't have any time to relax.
"Is that why my favorite after school activity was watching M.A.S.H. and eating Bagel Bites?" I asked.
My mom might be on to something with the kid I tutored, but I don't need to worry about putting Kiki in activities because of possible exhaustion, just yet. I think the student and her parents are not prioritizing. Her parents needs to read Tiger Mom. Amy Chua will let them know math comes before band, tennis and vacations. Without having to tutor two nights a week, I will be less stressed, and not feel like my only time for lecture prep is in the middle of the night.
When I went to bed, my breath was shallow, and I tried not to cough because it would kick start ten minutes of pain. I got out of bed for a new batch of cough drops and saw the time was 11, too late to go back on my no NyQuil stance. I read Shirley Jackson's Got A Letter From Jimmy, and thought Shirley's got some big cajones. Reading up on what the academics think of Ms. Jackson's story, it's deep meaning deals with communication, I think thats a load of rubbish, and this short story with mafia levels of violence was a wonderful outlet for frustrations she felt toward her husband who was being an idiot.
After the story, and the interpretations of the story, I fell asleep, and dreamt my cousin had a baby whose eyes were just white, no pupils or color, and one of them was cracked, and then I yelled at my sister's ex-husband. It was unsettling, but better than feeling like I went back to work with my pants around my ankles.

Our Easter Sunday has been very relaxing. George is sitting with his box of chocolates, rubbing the tops of them with his fingertips, or rubbing them on his cheek, all the while talking to them, "Those are my chocolates." and Kiki is fighting the urge to steal them, and eat them in her closet as fast as she ate hers.
Since I'm all caught up on my work, I can relax today and that entails web surfing, reading and writing. If I get an email from LinkedIn during one of my frequent email checks, saying People You May Know, with a picture of The Easter Bunny, a scary looking baby with white eyes, or a person who I'd like to never see again except to yell at in my dreams, then I know that LinkedIn's intel goes much deeper than the web, their in my head, and I think the best way to get them out is by employing Shirley Jackson's methods. Although it's unclear if my own head should be under attack or the head of LinkedIn.

My precious