April showers bring mud.

April has been an interesting month. And it's only three days old.

The end of March left me very burnt out. I continually ran into the same brick wall that I've been facing since November. You'd think that the wall would be broken down by now. But no. It isn't.

Volleyball is draining me of my desire to ever be around people ever again. Because I know that people start as children. Then they learn to talk. Then they become adolescents. And this is a horrible stage. Hormones are horrible things, and girls should not get them until 21. Illegal to consume alcohol and hormones until the 21st birthday. I will concede that my team is 15 years old, and they can be enjoyable to be around in a non-coach capacity. But I can not, for the life of me get them to focus for more than thirty seconds. It's like herding cats into a circle, they just won't do it.

I was offered a proposition by Curt at the end of the month. He asked me, over a long night of complaining at the nearest watering hole, if I would be willing to take on two teams next year. The moment he said that I just looked at him and laughed. I then proceeded to ask him why on God's green earth would I do something stupid like that. He said because there will be a pay bump, and I'll be co-coaching one of the teams, and that I will get a free round trip all expenses paid by the club to Cedar Rapids for a high intensity coaching certification clinic.

I will admit my interest was piqued at that point in time. I asked for more information which he provided right away with a grin that said he knew what the end result of the conversation would be. I saw this grin and became determined to make the conversation end a different way. Just to be a pain in the neck.

A 13's regional team, 6 tournaments, done by the last weekend in March.
A 15's national team, 9 tournaments, done the weekend after 13's.

To quote a well known historical figure, at least in my circles, "What does this mean?"

It means more traveling, it means more comping for gas and hotels(or trucks), it means more responsibility, it means sharing responsibility, it means getting another binder made, it means Monica and I are going to become best friends, it means over night tournaments, it means that I get to be the bad cop (the parents for the 15's national team will be...problems according to every single one their previous coaches), it means that more of my time will be taken away from the farms, it means that I will have to have great time management skills, it means that I get to meet John Kessel - if this name has no meaning for you Google him combined with volleyball. I'll wait. Go on, Google him and then come back. See? Isn't he cool?!- and it means that I will probably take a toaster into a bathtub with me at some point during the season. This is most certainly true.

I told Curt that I could not commit to such a thing at this point in time in my life. His wife sitting across the table from me leans forward and very quietly but with a lot of vehemence asks, "Why the hell not?" She also accented her question with a kick into my shin. I brought up my plans for the fall, winter, and spring, mentioned relocating, this that the other thing. I asked for a couple of weeks to mull it over and see if I hear back from the schools I applied to.

Again, here comes Janelle in the same manner as before, "Good reasons."

She kind of freaks me out. But she made me dinner one night, so...I think I like her.

End of March rolled around and I heard back from a couple of schools, I took Curt aside and said, "Yeah, I'll do it. I will welcome the hell that I have signed up for with smile and a wave." He looked at me like I was speaking in tongues until it clicked in his head, then smiled and said, "I knew you would". Jerk.

That takes us all the way up to April.

I'm burnt out. I'll post again soon and finish off this update.

Buck