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…

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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…

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

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

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

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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.

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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.

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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.

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He’s cute. That’s another thing you can do when you’re stressed: Pet the animals. Or try to comb out all their winter fur blobs. It’s satisfying.

*Beck, Where It’s At

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