Snapshot

The SFA Alumni Association regularly does a snapshot of some Faculty or Staff member's office and then they get to tell you about their office. It ends up really capturing the essence of that person. Here's what you'll find in my office at any given point:

• At least one mug and one cup- I'm always drinking either hot tea or water
• At least 3 pairs of shoes- a pair of sandals for any work I'm doing in/on/around the pool, a pair of tennis shoes in case I need to do some heavy lifting/moving/handyman work, and a pair of dress(y) shoes
• An extra phone charger- it took my parents almost 12 hours to get a hold of me after they found out my brother had died. It's one of the few small grief things I have, but I MUST have my phone on and with me at all times. Serious nerves happen if I don't.
• Snackage- This girl loves to eat! Currently, my snack drawer contains Red Bull, Velveeta Instant Mac, and Trader Joe's nuts
• Tea- I have a stash of loose and bagged tea. If you need some, just drop by! Tea is my happy place. It calms me when I'm most stressed.
• Swim Suit / towel / goggles- Life Aquatics. 'Nough Said.
• Pictures- I have a trio right now: One of my parents, one of my sister, and one of my brother
• Name Tags- I have my name tag from every conference I've been to since my Sophomore year of college hanging together. It's something a few of my mentors did. I can look at the name tags and be reminded of past fun and of how far I've come since that first NIRSA conference I went to.

I'm noticing a theme. Apparently my life revolves around food, family, and fitness.

Also, check out this article about your office: http://smallbusiness.yahoo.com/advisor/what-your-desk-says-about-you-001043491.html I have an organized desk and uncommon objects.

What NOT to do @ the Gym

I've spent the greater part of the past decade working at a gym of some sort. While fitness might not be my forte, I've picked up a lot along the way. This is a simple guide of what NOT to do when you're at the gym (Unless you want to be a complete and utter fool).

• Get on a treadmill, pump the incline all the way up, lean back & hang on! You're effectively negating the impact you think you're getting from the incline.
• Run on a treadmill while hanging on. Supporting your weight with your arms means you're not really running. It's the same as lying on your back and moving your legs. You could do that forever and you still wouldn't get your heart rate up. It might give your arms a little resistance training...
• Kiss/stare at/worship your muscles, meat head.
• Make faces/noises; if you have to make noises or faces, what you're doing is probably too hard for you and could therefore hurt you.
• Wear loafers/sandals/no shoes/Cowboy Boots. You're an idiot. You're not going to get the best workout and your risk for injury increases exponentially. Vibrams are fine. They at least provide a little grip.
• Wear jeans. rivets/buttons/zippers damage the pads on benches and equipment.
• Wear the same shoes you just trekked through the snow in. The salt and snow damages the equipment. 
• Wear cotton/street clothes/denim into the pool. Your clogging the filter, making it easier to drown yourself, and it doesn't hide the fat any better. Also, wearing your underwear in the pool adds fecal matter to the pool. You're gross.

Grief is a Class

"Our time on earth is a school. Grief is the toughest class we have to take." 

Grief is a teacher that has taught me many lessons. I can't say I'm glad of my grief, but I can look at who I was before, compare it to who I am now, and see the growth my grief pushed me through.

I learned to say no. No to the million and one activities that looked like they might be fun, no to the million and one little things people asked of me, no to things that other people thought were important. Grief forced me to prioritize what was important and what was not. I didn't have the energy to get through a long day so I learned what was really important to fit in each day.

I learned how to not care. Before B died, I was a living example of a conformist. I joined a sorority, thought I wanted to be an elementary school teacher, went to the church my parents wanted me to go to, and got all As. Grief gave me an excuse to not conform to every little rule. It didn't matter if I didn't fit in, B's death already assured me of that. Maybe this sounds negative, but it's not. I really get to be me. Every day. No mask, no trying too hard, no caring if someone doesn't like one little bit of me. I'm comfortable with who I am. It's a good feeling. In case you're wondering, I hate Gangnam style and I refuse to join google+ because I think it's stupid. And that is more than I could have said before my grief.

I learned about God. Before, I blindly believed every line any religious person had ever fed to me. And for a while I didn't know if I wanted to believe in God. Then, I was angry at God. Being angry with God was one of the best things I could have ever done. It really allowed me to have discussions with Him. I poured my heart out over the anger and He chose to heal my broken heart. My faith is so much more real now that I've been able to share my hurt and pain with Him.

I learned how to ask for help. I needed help getting through each day. I needed people to feed me so I would eat. I needed hugs to survive the overwhelming waves of grief. I had to forget my pride and ask for the help because people didn't know I needed if I didn't ask. I'm pretty self reliant at this point, but I'm not afraid to ask for help. I can and do.

I learned to read nonfiction. For a while, fiction was to happy/cliche/perfect. And it was painful to read that perfectness. There's some really good memoirs out there that have kept me company over the past few years.

I learned about life and death decisions. I don't think any of my friends know all the decisions that need to be made when someone dies. Now, I am an organ donor (My Driver's License says so). I've had that discussion with my family. We made that decision for my brother so I know what I want to do if the situation ever comes again. I know how much funerals and cremation, etc cost. I've learned how to tell people the bad news. I learned the things that are important in these decisions. When my parents die (hopefully I have them for another 40 years or so)I know how to handle death.

Grief also gave me courage. I will never be thankful for my grief because it meant losing Bryan but I am thankful for the growth it brought.