Big Girls Don't Cry

 . . . unless they're on the phone with tech support. Okay, I'm not actually crying, but I want to. My academic platform -- especially important now as I'm teaching a hybrid course -- has marked half of my students as unavailable. What that means on my end is that I can't grade their work; what it means on their end is worse -- they can't submit work. Fortunately, one of my students who is "unavailable" contacted me to tell me about the problem. Otherwise, I wouldn't have known until Sunday or Monday when I went into the system to grade work. At least the tech person I'm talking to now isn't treating me like and idiot end-user. Actually, the tech support at my college is helpful and thorough. They just don't seem to know what's going on in this particular case.

And it's hot! But I'm not crying about that either. I worked this morning until 12:30, and I knew I should go to the grocery store afterwards; I was out of everything. I was being a whiny baby (but no one knew except Mazie), not wanting to leave the house and face the heat. Finally, by 3:00, I worked up the gumption to just do it. I got myself a sweet little treat for being a big girl, along with lots of fresh fruits and vegetables. I gained three pounds on vacation, but I think I've dropped it. (I haven't had the nerve to step on the scale yet. I only know about the three pounds because I had a doctor's appointment right after I got back.) I'd like to peel off a few more pounds this summer. I even worked out last night. That's a pretty big deal.

I don't have anything against crying, and even the "narrator" of the title song finally acknowledges that big girls do, in fact, cry. Sometimes a good cry is very cathartic. Today I won't be crying. I'll be patting myself on the back for getting groceries and cleaning my fridge. Maybe I'll even work out again.