Don't get me wrong. I don't have anything against the other boy. He was charming and polite, played with my seven-year-old son. Nice looking. His father is a college professor, and his mother is a nurse. He did everything right to make me like him. And I did like him.
But I have a strong affection for the other kid. He's a little shy, a little awkward. Funny as hell. He's the one that went on a date with me to Dairy Queen last Thursday. He said he was spending "quality time" with me.
He just left for home. He lives about two hours away from us. However, he will be returning on Thursday night because he is going on a trip with us to Grand Rapids. My daughter has a dance competition. The invitation was my idea, and his parents agreed to let him come. He was smiling hugely when he left.
It is the end of the weekend. Work tomorrow. Dreading, dreading, dreading. I've had a toothache for the past week. At first, I thought it was due to tooth-grinding at night while I sleep. This weekend, however, my jaw hurt all day long. So, I put in a call to my dentist yesterday. I'm hoping to get an appointment tomorrow.
So, that's where I am tonight: dreading work, aching tooth, posting blog.
Tonight's Classic Saint Marty comes from my Charlotte's Web year--2014:
April 10, 2014: Stretched Out, A Funeral, A Nap
Lurvy appeared, carrying an Indian blanket that he had won.
"That's just what we need," said Avery. "A blanket."
"Of course it is," replied Lurvy. And he spread the blanket across the sideboards of the truck so that it was like a little tent. The children sat in the shade, under the blanket, and felt better.
After lunch, they stretched out and fell asleep.
This evening, I am tired. I'm sitting in my office at the university, grading quizzes, and getting more and more tired. I am so thankful this day (and this work week) is almost done. It's been a really exhausting five days.
This afternoon, I played the pipe organ for the funeral of a friend's wife. They were married over 50 years. He looked so sad and lost in the front pew. I played his favorite songs, and my wife sang his wife's favorite hymn. In a lot of ways, it really was a celebration, but I left the church very depressed.
Then, I came to school and finished showing Brokeback Mountain to my film class. By the time it was over, I was emotionally exhausted. That's the way it's been all week for me, and I don't know why. Working at the medical office depressed me. Teaching depressed me. Now, typing this post is depressing me. I may have to drag out my DVD of It's a Wonderful Life this weekend.
I think my mood has a lot to do with my impending job change. After working in the same office for 17 years, I think I'm allowed to mourn a little bit. I'm not saying my current job is perfect. It isn't. However, I love the people with whom I work, and I'm really good at what I do. In some ways, it almost feels like my coworkers are treating me like I'm already gone. They keep asking me, "When's your last day?"
So I'm thankful for this Friday, Saturday, and Sunday of respite.
I know I'm supposed to write about what's in my book bag on Thursdays, and I apologize. I haven't had the time or energy to read anything this week.
Saint Marty just wants to crawl under Lurvy's Indian blanket tent and fall asleep.
|This cartoon has nothing to do with my post, but it's funny as hell.|