Author's note: This post has absolutely nothing to do with the dreck poor Ice Cube has released upon cinema lately. Carry on.
I'm a bit frightened by how easy this week has been (she says Wednesday evening, when there are two whole days left to fall into disarray). So far I have, with reasonable aplomb & good spirits, put my classroom in working order (including bringing in chalk for the board, because I think I'm stuck with it for awhile); showed up for 'morning bus duty' on the first day of school (though I didn't really do anything); was introduced diplomat-style to our district's assistant superintendent & the coordinator of the gifted program (at the bus area, where I was doing nothing but looking smartly PTAish); managed an unexpected class of 30 high schoolers, many of whom were in the wrong room but I didn't know where to send them; e-mailed PTA information for the weekly bulletin; fielded calls about assemblies; typed fantastic-looking attendance, participation, and assignment logs for my classes; tried to fill out the 75+ forms required for a new teacher; and remembered to pick up my daughter from Brownies on time (pretty much - at least I wasn't the last to show up).
I keep having weird dreams - one was about swimming up a very long & steep water slide (gee, symbolism anyone?) and another involved a few celebrities I can't recall (because none of them were Mark Wahlberg, Johnny Depp, or Matthew McConaughey - I'm typing those names right now in hopes my subconscious will reward me tonight...). Each day I wake up thinking it must be Friday. Last night I was dead asleep by 9:20 and still exhausted at 6:15 this morning, when I made the perfect PB & J sandwiches for my kids but put them in the wrong lunchboxes (Mason hates the cinnamon raisin bread; Paige loves it. Bad tired well-meaning mom).
I have neglected calling my parents to get my uncle's phone number (he just moved to our town from Albuquerque). That will require much contriteness, which unfortunately does not come naturally for me. I enjoy being right, all the time. Even in admitting my alleged wrongness, I find a way to have been a little bit right. Why people like me very much is a bit mysterious sometimes.
My apologies for this rather random post about boring crap in my life. But then I guess that's what this whole blog is about, so really it's your fault for getting involved in the first place. (See - me right, all the time).
Now to sleep, perchance to dream (about you-know-who, right, Brain? Come on...Don't I deserve it?)