Move Through the Room Like Ambulance Drivers*

It has been pointed out to me that I am in a crappy mood. I agree. I am. It’s true. I do my best to counteract such moods: spending time reading my really interesting book, trying to draw every night, exercising on occasion (I’d like to do more of that), and messing with student brains. I had a kid write “Nida your a bitch” on one of the desks. OOOHH…that’s original sweetie. I have to agree as well. And right back at ya. So I erased it and then started a conversation, although I’m fairly sure this is a different kid…

I’m pretty sure I know which kid this is and which kid thinks I’m a bitch (the one I called out the other day for constantly trying to copy the people at her table, which is why I moved her to a different group this week. HA!). Can you see me rolling my eyes from here? Yesterday had a lot of fun components (not really) that ended in a load of stressful crap that better not show up in my class today…or tomorrow. All I can say is that at least they have bad aim, so I didn’t get hit.

Then I drove down to a show I’m in that I haven’t been able to see yet, because the gallery was supposed to be open late, but it wasn’t. So that was annoying, but I took it in stride. Because what else are you gonna do? Pitch a fit? Nah. Drive home, make a cup of tea, read a chapter. I graded a little bit. I’ve been unfocused on that shit lately…hard when you have to babysit in class after you’ve assigned something, stand over them until they make a start, stand over them so they don’t hurl epithets about Your Mom. Your Mom wants you to get to work, you sweet little dear child, not pick a fight with some other 12-year-old.

My patience is worn thin.

Dark dog…

After dinner, I finished the drawing…eventually I started numbering it…

I knew it was not going to be just a few pieces. They never are.

There’s the thing I put in the bottom corner…the backpack.

There’s the 1000th piece. I’ve never ended exactly on 1000. Yes, odds are I missed a number or didn’t number some piece. I find myself transposing numbers as I write them. I think 783 and write 738. I hope that’s not some form of advancing dementia.

It’s not huge, but it’s not small. Maybe 36″ wide? I’m not actually sure I can finish it in time. But you know me…I’m gonna try.

Besides, it’ll give me something else to think about…because I’m finding school very frustrating right now. And I’m still low-key fighting this illness. And I ate jellybeans at school all day yesterday because I was that stressed. The right eye is twitching, but not constantly yet, so I have plenty of stress levels left. By the way, if you live with a teacher, and this is the first year you’ve experienced the End of the Year Syndrome, have patience. They give us the summer off for a reason.

Here’s Simba in one of his favorite sleeping spots. He really likes that pillow.