Alas, school is out and summer is upon us!  So, the kids are out of the hallways and all of us teachers are free as little tired birds, at least for a couple of months.  I have gone all year without serious back pain and it's amazing how it is now bothering me now that my work is complete for the year.  Why is it that my brain tells my shoulder muscles to knot-up and torture me?  Those little cells are probably like, "okay folks, let's do this! On your mark, get set, fire off neurological impulses to back muscles and nerves!" Luckily, one of my precious little 6th graders gave me a gift certificate for a 30 minute massage at the dayspa.  Smart kid. So, yesterday I took complete advantage of this.  And what did the masseuse notice but that I had tension in my back and shoulders.  It is amazing what a good massage can do.  I left feeling relaxed and ready to take on the world.  It's a good thing another student gave me and the band director (who gladly donated his to me) gift certificates for even more luxurious treatment.  I will definitely be taking advantage.

It's all in the timing...

 Father Time, obviously, is not on my side lately.  Take yesterday, for example.  One of my best friends' little brother was getting married and it was time to get ready for the ceremony.  Things were running on schedule until I decided a nap would be nice.  So there I was, snoozing away...and then it was 20 minutes until the wedding.  Not to mention, it would take at least 10 minutes to get there.  Oh, and I still had a towel on my head, wet hair, and no make-up.  I somehow managed to get ready and make it on time.  Well, almost on time.  


One of my star students had their senior recital today and I was excited about being the model teacher- on time, sitting on the front row, gift and card in hand.  You know who wasn't excited?  The truck that I had to follow the entire way to Tifton, that's who. 


Let's not even mention the past four months and how challenging they have been.  I'll save that for the personal journal.  


You know what time does to bar-b-que?  Well, I found that out today while I was cleaning out my car.  I have been looking for my medium Tupperware bowl for a couple of months and was happy to find it under my passenger seat.  That is, until I opened it up to clean the mummified bar-b-que out of it.  It smelled like something had crawled from the bowels of Big Foot and died in there. Hot mess.

So, here's to hoping time will start being on my side. 

 

Random Thoughts....

Oreos are not a social cookie.  This was a serious topic of discussion between intellectuals during honors night, last night.  You know how you shouldn't eat spaghetti on a first date?  Well, save the oreos for when you're alone, as well. 

As I was driving home last night, the person driving ahead of me flicked their cigarette out of their window.  Still burning.  Am I the only person bothered by this?  I don't want the undercarriage of my car to engulf flaming embers!  Maybe I'm just paranoid, but still.  It just seems rude.  Besides, smoking is so 1997 anyway right? 

What is the purpose of mice?  All they do is stink up my office and poop all over my desk and books.  I'm so over them.  When I walked into my office, yesterday, a mouse ran to safety.  Well, I say "ran".  He was so fat that he looked like his belly was dragging on the ground and he was waddling.  I swept about 2 cups (though, I didn't take the time to accurately measure) of rat poop out of my room yesterday.  Yuck!  This has to be an unhealthy environment.  I will not be satisfied until all mice are dead and I disinfect my entire classroom and office with bleach and then go over it with some green works and oust.

Drive-through grocery stores?  Think about it.  It's genius and we need one.  Here's how it works:  you can buy up to 20 items.  You choose your items from the store's website ahead of time and go ahead and pay with your debit or credit card, print out the receipt, drive up to the window, and pick up your order.  I mean, I think I have an idea here.  Also, you would save money.  Let me explain.  What happens when you go to the grocery store or Wal-Mart to pick up "a few things"?  I know what happens to me.  My list goes to the wayside and I see all sorts of things I think I need.  Ooh, a Popsicle holder!  I totally need that.  Um, yeah, I can use a digital change counter.  That 100-pack of bean burritos looks yummy.  What was supposed to be a trip to pick up sliced cheese, toilet paper, bread, milk, and a pack of AA batteries has turned into a smorgasbord of unnecessary items.  Not only that, I've forgotten to even get the cheese and toilet paper!  And everybody knows those are necessities.  This is discovered later, of course, while unbagging the purchased treasures.  So, what will I have to do?  Use a quarter tank of $4/gallon gas to run back to the store to pick up the cheese and toilet paper, thus starting the process once more.  I would use a drive-through grocery store.  In fact, I rather need one.

Who's the man?

I read an interesting article the other day about manimony and it totally got me thinking: what the heck have we gotten ourselves into?  Yes, we've made leaps and bounds, we can vote, we've burned our bras...now, we have to pay manimony.  For those of you unfamiliar with the "term", manimony is money that the wife must pay to support the husband after a divorce when the husband makes less money than the wife...now, I can't help but to think about how society molds us into who we are and how, these days, the signals are really mixed up.  If you're a little girl, you're dressed in frilly little outfits and huge bows are plopped on your head.  Little girls have parties at the spa and sip sparkling cider.  Little boys are dressed in athletic apparel and encouraged to kill animals with whatever resources they have, and, if you live in the south, drive a tractor or a race car or some other form of dangerous automobile.  So, in our (and our children's) early years we're given this signal:  girls, sit pretty while the guys are rough and tough and provide for us.  However, as we grow older, we're told:  be tough, be prepared to take care of yourself and be a strong woman, you don't need a man.  So, I'm guessing most of us (at least I know I do) try to find balance in all of this chaos.  So, I'm going to wear pink every now and again, spritz on some body spray, own a substantial amount of high heels while I also raise the kids, clean, cook and, at the same time, I'll race to the top as a strong-minded, success-driven, hard-working provider.  So, what have we become, girls?  We've become the man AND the woman.  Don't get me wrong, please.  I take great pride in and enjoy the comfort of knowing that I am fully capable of taking care of myself and my offspring.  And I am very thankful that I was encouraged, early on, to be able to take care of myself if I had to...But let's get back to this manimony business.  Really, guys?  There are women out there that are working, taking care of the kids, running a household, AND paying their ex.  I can't help but wonder if the women of the olden days (and some of the trophy wives of today) were smarter, in some ways.  I mean, I've never hear of women of the 1950's paying manimony.  Guys out there: don't worry, this isn't a "let's sit around and bash the boys" blog.  If you're on top of your game and aren't planning on being with a woman so that she can support you AND be an apron-wearing pin-up girl, you'll be ok.  However, if you are the opposite, heed my advice (or whatever else you want to call it):  If you want us to be the man AND the woman...well....what exactly do we need you for?