Friday, September 6, 2013

September 6: Sort of Cosy, Tired of People, Fairy Tale

It was pretty nice to get back to my room, after I left old Spencer, because everybody was down at the game, and the heat was on in our room, for a change.  It felt sort of cosy...

Holden is in his dorm room at Pencey.  He's being kicked out of school.  His teacher, old Spencer, has just humiliated him.  His roommate is going on a date with the girl he loves.  At the moment, he feels safe in his space.  It's warm. It's cosy.  It's safe.

I sort of feel the same way at the moment.  It's Friday night.  I don't have to worry about my son's behavior in kindergarten tomorrow.  I don't have to go to work.  I don't have to teach.  I don't really have to do a damn thing tomorrow.  And I'm on my couch, watching Shark Tank, typing my blog.  I'm warm, cosy.

It has been a long week of dealing with people.  Lots of people.  Teachers.  Students.  Patients.  I like people.  In fact, most of my friends would probably label me a "people person."  However, at least this evening, I'm tired of people.  An hour or so ago, I told a telemarketer, "Stop calling and annoying people."  I don't normally do that.  I'm usually very polite to telemarketers, even when I'm hanging up on them.  Maybe the problems and stresses of this week have turned me, temporarily, into a misanthrope.  I don't want to talk to anybody.  Everybody is irritating me.

I will probably feel friendlier tomorrow.  Every once in a while, I need to crawl into my shell and hibernate.  When I'm done with this post, that's exactly what I'm going to do.

However, first I'd like to say...

Once upon a time, a man named Barry lived beside an enchanted well.  One morning, as Barry was drawing water for his bath, a water nymph appeared before him.

"As the Sprite of the Well," the nymph said, "I am here to offer you three wishes."  She waved her magic wand.  "All you have to do is promise to never take water from this well again."

Barry picked up his bucket, looked at the nymph, and said, "(censored) off!"  He went home and took his bath.

Moral of the story:  (censored) off!

And Saint Marty lived happily ever after.

So do I.  Tonight.

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