November 16: Mmmmmmmm....Turkey, Parent Teacher Conference

Well, the turkey wasn't done cooking by the time I had to leave for class this morning.  I did get a sampling of the stuffing and sweet potatoe casserole, both excellent and filling.  When I got back from teaching, I had some of the turkey.  White meat, of course.  It was still warm, even though it was in the fridge.  Moist and delicious.  I washed it down with some home-made egg nog.  We're talking paradise.

Tonight, my wife and I have to go to a parent/teacher conference for our daughter.  I never really stress about these conferences.  My daughter has been a dream student her whole life.  These are the kinds of things I'm used to hearing from her teachers:  advanced reader; self-motivated; considerate of her classmates; a pleasure to have in classroom; doing great.  Perhaps I've been lulled into a false sense of security.  Maybe this conference will be the one where I find our she's been trading her Pixy Stix at lunch for Ritalin.  But until I have hard evidence, I will continue my existence of denial.

I still haven't heard back from the radio station about my Christmas essay.  I've been waiting for a phone call or e-mail all day long.  I'm going to give them until tomorrow to contact me, and then I'll try to contact them.  It's not that I think the radio station doesn't like my essay.  It's just my insecure, Sylvia Plath-side coming out.

The trytophan is kicking in.  Saint Marty needs a nap.

Not going to the oven yet, Sylvia