At 5 a.m. on the fifth of January in the Midwest, even when the weather promises 60 degrees by afternoon, it is cold and dark and dank and miserable. Just putting my feet over the side of the bed caused two little doggies, curled into warm nestled balls next to their respective humans, to lift noses and give evil glares.
But it had to be done. I had laid out the clothes and jewelry the night before, very aware that 5 a.m. decision making is next to impossible. I even had the correct color of socks picked out.
Out the door by 5:45, lunch in hand, I had the school bag rolling along filled with new calendars, file cabinet keys, twenty-five cent boxes of candy canes from the after Christmas grocery run, and bottles of water for chilling.
Hubby, sad and grumpy with the dreaded "virus," only had the car partially warmed and we shivered along for the first five miles, all in the dead dark of a too early morning. He'd cough, I'd cough, and the doggies huddled under my feet by the car heater.
My caseload kids bounced in at 7 for new schedules. I had to explain to seven of them that I hadn't gotten their schedules changed before Christmas but would work on it during the next two days. The counselors had placed them in algebra classes with no support, a scenario destined for failure for everyone, especially those kids with low stress points.
Collaboration in first block was the same as last semester. The instructor told the class just how wonderful he was and that they should "love" him every minute of the 90 minutes they were blessed with his presence. He explained how important he was in the school, as a coach, and in the world at large.
My student aid worked hard second block taking down Christmas decorations and finding the work we had stashed away during the Christmas party, the last day before vacation. I ate half my lunch second block.
Third block was another repetition of first semester, this time the instructor telling everyone how much she loved teaching and working with kids and would never talk this much ever again but that this was a one time thing and she would see that they would get to talk during class and we would do plenty of difficulty work and wouldn't this all be fun and wouldn't we all just learn lots and lots and lots.
Then I ate the second half of my lunch which, because it was already depleted, just wasn't enough food. In Hubby's defense (he puts up the lunches) I had been sending home most of the food he had carefully prepared in December (when I had the dreaded "virus") so he just assumed I wouldn't be ravenous.
Fourth block was quiet. I liked my study hall / work study group. Currently they are a very small number, but as the semester goes on they will begin returning from suspension or find they can't cope in regular classrooms and the staff will begin sending kids my way.
On the way home, I tried to entice Hubby into eating dinner out. But the awful "virus" has completely sapped his appetite, until he realized that I was pining for F O O D, so he stopped at my favorite deli shop, "Planet Sub." They make these great soups and they toast their sandwiches, even when filled with cold cuts. Thinking ahead, I ordered a bowl of soup and a big cookie for lunch tomorrow and a six inch meatball sub with mozzarella cheese for dinner.
After getting out a cold diet soda at home (something had to be relatively healthful), I started in on the sub. But that soup, all warm and steamy, looked so tempting. I knew just a bite wouldn't hurt. Soon the soup was consumed, as was the meatball sub. So I figured why save the cookie?
It took two dinners tonight to soothe this savaged beast. It's good that in six months I'm retiring. That may not be soon enough for my diet, though.