I am starting the third day of school with the kids. I am sick already. Sore throat, chilly, and achy. What is it about children that makes me sick instantaneously? I think it is just a sign that I am supposed to live in the coffee shop, writing, for the rest of my life. You think? (Hopefully it goes away before we leave for a week of camping and outdoor lab with the 6th graders.)
I got my hair cut yesterday—my principal, being as cool as she is, was totally fine with the Mohawk, although she told me that it was going to cause a world of problems when she first saw me two weeks ago…then she laughed and told me she was kidding (poor woman has got a heavily tattooed, mohawked, fag teacher—she’ll be sainted one day)—and walked in the door of the barbershop, who should I see? Chad’s favorite barber, who he went to the whole time we were together. She apparently moved locations, since we used to go downtown and now I go to the suburbs about fifteen miles away. It seems I am learning how to prepare and deal with emotions when I see a situation coming, but I have yet to learn to rally when something unexpected occurs. She instantly got up and gave me a huge hug and asked how I was. I, being the pathetic creature I have become, felt the tears start falling down my face and my throat grow tight. She said that she saw Chad before she moved locations and that he told her that he had broken up with me, and that he loves me (I’m sure he meant it like I love the dogs, not in the way I wish he did). She said that she was totally and completely surprised—she’d seen us together and talked to us every two weeks for the years we were together. She and one other person yesterday told me that they just couldn’t believe that we wouldn’t get back together at some point. I wish they were right. Words are cheap, as are opinions, and wishes.
Black Coffee Tables
2 years ago