perspicacious.org

S asked me a question today. I've forgotten what exactly, something about right and wrong and how do we know which is which. I remarked that that was an existentialist question. "What's an extra skeleton question?" she asked. I laughed. I don't as a rule throw big words around for the fun of it, though I like teaching the kids $1 words occasionally. Just often enough that it's novel to learn something most 10 year olds don't know. Maybe "existentialist" was too big a word, though.

Speaking of extra skeletons, Louise told us all today about how she cheated on one spelling test when she was 9 and never did it again because she felt so awful. Not, "oh God, what if I get caught" awful but "that was morally wrong" awful. Sister C told us about someone who was such a bad person she "cheated on her income taxes!" I mean, really. I hardly considered myself a paragon of virtue, but if 4th grade spelling tests and income tax fraud are enough to push me off of the moral precipice then I may as well just give up now. (I'd like to make it known that I haven't actually cheated on my taxes, but compared to other things I could have and actually have done I don't think it's that awful. In Catholic land I'm already doomed to an millennium in Purgatory anyway, though.)

If you see the McRib would you please let it know that I have not, in fact, missed it?

No ER so my 9:00 hour is wide open. Better find something morally questionable to do.

I dreamed we were lost in a maze of hedges. There was a map that lead the way out, but it wasn't a map of the labyrinth. It was a map of the world. It was upside down, or maybe you just held it upside down. I'm not sure. There was a minotaur in the center of the maze, but when I saw it I ran. Then I woke up. So, I'm lost in my dreams now, too. My complete lack of a sense of direction is kind of famous, so it stands to reason that it would work its way into my dreams, too. I'm not up for analyzing that dream any more than that.

I woke only to be disappointed that it didn't snow last night, only rain. Whatever, Robin Marshment. There should be a policy about getting my hopes up for a snow day and then not delivering. It probably won't snow tonight, either. Drat. The rain seems to have cleared up, but more rain is forecast until Saturday. We'll see.

I feel better today. I called my mom and begged for some Benadryl. (She offered, actually. Then she told me to drink lots of juice.) I couldn't sleep last night because I apparently no longer have a nose.

I had a sweet little visitor today, a 5th grader who will attend my school for 6th grade next year. She was really cute and outgoing and friendly. I'd almost take her right now. The kids kind of fought over her all day. I think she had fun. She was definitely working the crowd a little, but that's OK. She'll do fine next year.

I'm sick again! I was just sick like 2 weeks ago! My kids are holding up OK, but the other 5th grade class is having a strep throat and stomach flu epidemic. Eww. Remind me to disinfect my room. I would have done it today, but I'm tired and I'm already sick anyway. I have that icky tickly nose sneezy feeling. (Hyphens! What are they good for? Absolutely nothing!) The kids sang the Spongebob theme song for me today. (If we end up with extra time before the bell I make each table sing me a song before I dismiss them. We also have disco dance break.)

Whee, cold humor. If you're not finding this post funny, well, take some decongestant and read it again.

I deserve a Thin Mint (or 5) and a nap.

Do you watch people walk down the street? I watch old women with heavy grocery bags. I watch young mothers with babies on their hips. I watch people sit at bus stops and stare at passing cars. I watch and wonder about their lives. I imagine that they scrounge for bus fare. I imagine that their shoes are old and their feet are blistered, that their coats aren't warm enough to keep out the wind. I feel guilty for thinking that my life is hard. What do I have to worry about? That I make enough to be taxed on it? That I have too many paths to choose from? Those aren't problems. I'm a selfish bitch.

Life does funny things to you. It makes you think that who you are and where you go is up to you, but how many choices are there, really? How many outcomes are based on honest effort, and how many on luck?

It's cold today. I can hear the rain falling on the roof, but it's warm inside. Last night I dreamed of Christmas trees and Georgian mansions and trellises of roses. I felt angry until I realized I'd only dreamed it. Then I just felt groggy and annoyed that I had to get up. Sometimes I can go back to sleep and continue my dreams. It's a skill worth cultivating, but not on Monday mornings when I'm running late.

I want to be the person who makes plans (something I do fantastically, thankyouverymuch) and then imlements them (something I'm not as good at). I knew when I came back that I'd get sucked back into life without a second thought. I knew it would happen. I saw it happening. And I did nothing to stop it. It happens every time.

I need to be the person who does things on a whim. I need to stop getting caught up in self-imposed restrictions. I am tired of my life. I am tired of feeling caught, and I am tired of not knowing where to go from here or how to get there. I need to take trains and planes and buses. I need to get lost. I need to just go.

I rewrote my resume this morning. I sent off 3 applications and wrote to ask for several others. I will go. It's past the point of being an option.

I miss me.