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DREAM NINETEEN

Last night I dreamt I gave birth to the anti-christ. It was a newborn with teeth and it could talk. It would say horrible anti-christ-ish sort of things and then it would spit up. Next, I'm running to catch the Greyhound bus. I approach the ticket counter and ask if I missed the 417. The lady said it would depart in five seconds. I sprinted outside and boarded the first thing I could, an airplane. I had no idea where I was bound. The plane just lifted into the air and then promptly dove back to the runway. And in a spectacular blossom of burning jet fuel, I died.

So that's my day so far.

ANSWER: PRETTY DUMB

I have a mean crush on one of my students. I'm not a robot. It happens. Anyway, he makes me all giggly and squirmy and squishy. And he doesn't even know it. How dumb is that?

THIS IS

Not a job. This is an act of love.

I finished painting another room in the tree house. That's the third room in as many weeks. As I stripped tape off the trim, I laughed as I recalled my own anal retentive attitudes and methods going into painting the first room. Now I think I've learned to appreciate the difference between "a job well done" and "a job done well enough."

I'm pooped. I think I'm going to hang these brushes up for a little while.

THE NEIGHBORHOOD

Last week in the midst of yard messy-making, I introduced myself to the next-door-lady. I brought over a box of ginger cookies, and she invited me in for a chat. She's been in the neighborhood for over twenty years and had all kinds of things to share. Swell gal, although a bit of a space cadet. It might have something to do with her age (she has grandchildren in their early twenties) or it could be all the grass she smokes. For her glaucoma.

IN & OUT OF CONTEXT

Yesterday during my last hour class I exclaimed, "Hold on...Let me tap my inner raccoon." Which, even in context made little sense. But it was fun to say nevertheless.

JUNKIE

I have this student, R. For breakfast (in my class) he consumed one king size Reeses Peanut Butter Cup, one Nut Roll, one Butterfinger bar, and a mini Pay Day. He washed all of this down with a cup of hot chocolate and a can of Vault Energy Drink.

Um, junior diabetes much?

These kids absolutely kill me with their crazy roadrunner metabolism.

I'M A PIG

I oogle men. It's true.
But only the cute ones.