Falling Behind, Falling in Love
I have about 60 ungraded tests that are about a week late, but I'm not going to touch them tonight.
I've made a delicious dinner absolutely from scratch, and it's set to go in the oven to be perfectly timed for my darling's homecoming.
I hope it's not disgusting.
It snowed last night as we snuggled on the couch buried under blankets and watched the gigantic hand-sized gobs fall. We just happened to be watching X-Men 2, which was just fine in its crappiness, because that was just the excuse to be on the couch under blankets instead of doing boring grown-up things like correcting tests or doing the dishes.
I still haven't done the dishes.
Even on my bad days at school, I can't say I've had a bad day. There are moments I'm not fond of dwelling on - the detentions I issued, the reprimand I gave, the cutting remarks mumbled through disgruntled teenage angst. Then, there are moments I'll always treasure. The times where I make them laugh, or they play me a song, or a small handful of seniors come to my room and stay until 4:30 just talking and laughing with me. It feels good to have that little fingerprint on a life, a mind, a journey. I'm like those little stubby things on the tires... my lessons go with them always, worn down by time and travel, but helping them down the road nonetheless.
I prayed and wished and hoped for years that I would find true happiness, true joy. In Morris, I found joy in friendship, in companionship, in my Nicholai and the scent of the barn in autumn. In Australia, I found joy in adventure, in bonds, in road trips, in memories, in family. In all those days, I wished for the joy I have now. It was certainly worth the wait, the wishing, the prayers. In my heart, I have joy in all its forms and all its sparking chiming giggles.
Life is so good.
I've made a delicious dinner absolutely from scratch, and it's set to go in the oven to be perfectly timed for my darling's homecoming.
I hope it's not disgusting.
It snowed last night as we snuggled on the couch buried under blankets and watched the gigantic hand-sized gobs fall. We just happened to be watching X-Men 2, which was just fine in its crappiness, because that was just the excuse to be on the couch under blankets instead of doing boring grown-up things like correcting tests or doing the dishes.
I still haven't done the dishes.
Even on my bad days at school, I can't say I've had a bad day. There are moments I'm not fond of dwelling on - the detentions I issued, the reprimand I gave, the cutting remarks mumbled through disgruntled teenage angst. Then, there are moments I'll always treasure. The times where I make them laugh, or they play me a song, or a small handful of seniors come to my room and stay until 4:30 just talking and laughing with me. It feels good to have that little fingerprint on a life, a mind, a journey. I'm like those little stubby things on the tires... my lessons go with them always, worn down by time and travel, but helping them down the road nonetheless.
I prayed and wished and hoped for years that I would find true happiness, true joy. In Morris, I found joy in friendship, in companionship, in my Nicholai and the scent of the barn in autumn. In Australia, I found joy in adventure, in bonds, in road trips, in memories, in family. In all those days, I wished for the joy I have now. It was certainly worth the wait, the wishing, the prayers. In my heart, I have joy in all its forms and all its sparking chiming giggles.
Life is so good.