Decisions, decisions...

Yes, I am down to 142.5 pounds, but not in a good way. I have lost weight this week because I have stressed myself into a relapse and can't manage to eat anything.

I am the canary in the mine. I see the big picture. I see the problems and cracks and I am probably a little hyper-vigilant. But when I see it coming, I want to warn folks.

"Get out of the way!"

"We gotta change this!"

"This could be so much easier/sweeter/kinder/effective!"

But sometimes--most of the time--they just don't want to hear it. And I can usually let it go.

Unless it directly affects my life in some dramatic way.

Like People First Language.

Well grad school is affecting my life in a dramatic way. The issues with my team got worse--much worse--over the course of the past several weeks and I went to the administration for help. It seems that was the wrong course of action. They don't want to hear it. And I can't let it go.

Without detailing you to death, let's just say that I am seriously considering leaving the program. This sucks for about 64 reasons, not the least of which is that I want this degree, I love the coursework, and I don't know what I am going to do if I drop out.

But I can't live with this kind of stress for another year. It isn't fair to my children. It isn't healthy for me. Life is way too short to go weeks without sleep or eating because folks won't do their part.

Damn it.