Life with my feet up...

Seriously-- I actually bailed on a department meeting (to the unhappiness of my dept. head) to come home and put my feet up and on ice.

Walking around the Academy of Science on Saturday had pretty much fubar'd my foot per usual, and it was getting to the point where I would stand up and site my destination, and then my vision would tunnel, and the entire ten to twenty foot trip would lengthen and stretch like that hallway in Poltergeist and all I'd see was red as I hobbled from point A to point B. Mate was still making up work from his vacation (and the long hours I worked before Christmas vacation) and all I wanted to do was go home, sit down, and ice my damned foot.

So I braved Mr. Trick's disapproval (can't blame him, but, at this point, I couldn't help him either) and came home, put my foot up and issued orders like a chain-smoking gym teacher with a bullhorn.

The older kids were wonderful, the younger kids not so much--they seemed to feel my extended leg and the ice pack it rested on were a new and unusual jungle gym, and I felt bad--Mean Mama came out to scream when what I REALLY wanted was for Snuggly Mama to sit and cuddle. In the end, we had to compromise, and Sleeping Mama just dozed in the chaos as the the little ones tumbled around like lion cubs. It must not have been too bad a day--they went to sleep early, and there was actually less crying than there has been (they have learned to fight in earnest--fun times!) so a little bit of chaos went a long way.

And it seems to have worked-- the swelling has gone down and my foot is no longer curled up around my arch like an agoraphobic caterpillar and I may be able to walk like a human tomorrow.

I've also gone seriously on program w/ Weight Watchers (sort of--no weigh ins, just sticking to the point limit and healthy living guidelines. The weigh ins are expensive, and unless I an make the other stuff stick, we really can't afford it.) It's so lame...I want to jump up and scream "Five out of seven days on program!" But unless I buy a scale and woman up to the damned thing's mocking laughter and cutting personal remarks (what--those don't come standard on your scale?) the only way I can tell if it's working is when my pants start to fall off.

Honestly, I can live with that.

And I can walk again. I may have to face consequences with Mr. Trick but seriously, if I can walk by the end of the week--and actually GO walking, I HATE all of this inertia stuff, it feels like my ass is growing its own zip code, sweartadog--it may just be worth it. (Mr. Trick's a good guy--I felt bad pointing out that the reasons I've missed so many dept. meetings are the same reasons I applied for part time in the first place--it seems obvious but dealing with three different kid pick-ups gets complicated quick, and add in grocery shopping and after school activities and school volunteer schedules and blah blah blah blah blah... you all know the drill, I just don't want to bore him with it anymore.)

And other than that? School is... school is...

It's not bad. I tried to squeeze too much in last semester, so I'm doing both The Crucible and Julius Caesar right now (when I should have done them last semester)--and although I've only taught Caesar once, I am REALLY enjoying the hell out of it so far. The Crucible and I are old friends--and the kids are starting to get it. Classroom rituals are not my strong suit so much, but TALKING about the literature... I don't know for sure if I'm good at it, but I do know that I love it a whole lot, and for one, maybe two kids in the classroom, that's really something that matters.

And btw, thank you all... this is, what? The third year you've watched me melt down over a book? You'd think I'd learn by now, wouldn't you? I don't. It's funny though--almost every time I freak out about the writing or the books not selling or how can I squander my time with this smucking fuseless pipe-dream... I get a sign from the universe... a review or a letter or a comment or SOMETHING--very often it's you guys, and sometimes it comes on e-mail and sometimes it's just the right song at the right time, riffing through my head and onto the radio station. This last week its been a combination of all of the above, coupled with reading the 'In Memoriam' portion of the book to friends of Marvin's. It made them cry--they told me it was perfect.

I don't know about you guys, but I thought that was a really good sign.