Behavior

Now, where were we?  Hmmm...ah, yes!  I remember!  When last we spoke, I was sitting on the couch next to my safety procedures manual and waxing philosophical about my self-destructive tendencies towards procrastination.  It was the night before I was to take the second portion of my trainer's certification course and I had only just managed to bring that stupid binder up from the car.  That is where it has been sitting since last November, save for the day that I took it with me to class a month ago.  I hadn't even bothered to look it over before that first part of the course nor had I seen any real reason to store it anywhere other than the backseat of my car following this event.  

I also seem to recall that I said something about how I was going to need to put in hours of study before bedtime and that this sad state of affairs might just have been the result of some very poor planning on my part.  When I went back over that post, it really did sound like I was owning my behavior and accepting the consequences of my actions.

This brings me to another somewhat fascinating (depending upon your perspective) aspect of my behavior:  My ability to overcome my own good intentions.

I know that many of you actually believed me when I said that I would be studying for much of the evening.  I think that is sort of sweet.  Heck, I almost believed it myself for a while there...

The truth of the matter is that I never once looked at that binder again after I'd finished posting Thursday night.  I blame television.  It is shiny and glowy and seduces me with its bright colors and simple plot lines.  The safety procedures manual doesn't even come with pictures, for heaven's sake!  It was no contest.

Besides, I have another little personality quirk upon which to fall back in times such as these.  Sure, this class was going to be a little smaller this time since it was only for the three of us who didn't get in the required teaching hours last year to qualify for our trainer's certificates.  There was no getting around the fact that I was going to have to perform in the spotlight for more of the session than I did in past classes.  And let's not even get me started on the issues around the adorableness of the trainer.  But I wasn't worried.  I have a secret weapon, you see.  

I am charming.

Yup.  It's true.  I can pretty much talk my way through anything.  Further, I am even better under pressure.  I am even more betterer, perhaps even close to most bestest, when I have a handle on how the instructor is going to teach the class.  Having already spent a lovely day with Mr. A. Dorable, The Trainer Dude, I felt confident that I could somehow stumble through this.

Using what little preparation I had under my belt, my understanding of Mr. D's teaching style and a gullet full of coffee-fueled charm, I forged ahead.  We probably don't need to discuss the whole process.  I'm not certain that it will go down in history as one of my proudest moments since it involved engaging in witty banter with the instructor and that this was clearly not being enjoyed by my fellow trainees.  They were relying on their having studied for the course and the copious use of note cards.  Unfortunately, both were so nervous that they were having a hard time staying focused.  But it was every woman for herself at that point and I needed the banter to distract everyone from the fact that I was reading the sections of the manual that I'd skipped the previous evening during class time.

We all passed.  And Mr. A. Dorable said that he loved me.  Loved.  Me.  I was that charming.  If I were ten years younger, dear readers, I swear to you that I would be sending you all my hand written wedding invitations sometime within the next week...

Girls is weird.  They is not all sophisti-ma-cated like us boys is..

We do what we have to in order to make it to the weekend, I suppose.  My shiny new Safety Procedures Trainer card should be in the mail sometime next week and I will probably be the most charming individual to ever teach choke hold release techniques in the history of the human race.  I will just have to remember to teach the class with one of the people who relied a little more heavily on reading the material is all...

Mama should try to be more like me.  I is a Man Of Mystery.  Is very classy...

With my less than honorable, but still successfully completed training behind me, I can now relax and fully enjoy this three day weekend.  The opinions of the Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty aside, I feel that I have earned it.  It is very taxing to have to be all charming and making Mr. A. Dorable declare his love for me and whatnot.  I'm not as young as I used to be, after all.  I ran a few errands this morning, then settled in for a quiet day of knitting happily on the new scarf whilst watching hour upon hour of downloaded television.

TV, while somewhat distracting when you should be studying for stuff, is great for knitting.  Incredible progress was made and I am soon to be attaching a second ball of yarn.  I'm even remembering to count the stitches so that I won't have to do so much with the tinking back.  I was so impressed with my efforts that I promised myself I would put up a picture today in order that I might share my scarfy goodness with everyone else.

Once again, the intentions were good.  The follow-through?  Not so much.  I'll try to remember to do that tomorrow.

In the meantime, though, don't you feel charmed?

SA