(no subject)
So. Here I am, in Seattle, writing grocery lists and making dinner and doing dishes and generally playing house with a more-than-willing Shaun as guinea pig. The weather has been gorgeous, as I'm told only Seattle weather can be: sunny, but not too hot, and it hasn't rained once.
It's been almost a week since I got here on the flight from hell. We were held up for almost five hours on the runway in JFK due to thunderstorms. I was supposed to be in to Seattle at around 11 pm, and instead got in at around 3:30 am. There's something about transportation that hates me, for some strange reason. It's almost as if the planes and busses and trains know how much I hate being late, and do it on purpose.
And what can I say about here? I get up at 7 in the morning to take an almost hour long bus ride to face twenty 3-5 year olds who all chirp "Good morning, Miss Kim" in a heartwarming concert that makes even my early mornings worthwhile. I spend my day digging worms with Ben and telling Leon to stop shoving Isaiah and playing ball with Alex and telling JaJa that she can't use friendship as a bargaining tool, even if Kali did throw woodchips at her face. Then it's naptime and I pat three or four or five of them to sleep before catching the bus home to take my own nap.
I'm settling down into my routine, and I think it will be a good one. Saturdays Shaun and I will go grocery shopping and to the farmer's market, and on warm summer nights we will walk downtown for ice cream and I will end up feeling way more adult than is good or quite comfortable for me yet. I've plans to head to the library or used bookstore this weekend. There's nothing like walls and walls of books to satisfy me in a way nothing else can.
It's been almost a week since I got here on the flight from hell. We were held up for almost five hours on the runway in JFK due to thunderstorms. I was supposed to be in to Seattle at around 11 pm, and instead got in at around 3:30 am. There's something about transportation that hates me, for some strange reason. It's almost as if the planes and busses and trains know how much I hate being late, and do it on purpose.
And what can I say about here? I get up at 7 in the morning to take an almost hour long bus ride to face twenty 3-5 year olds who all chirp "Good morning, Miss Kim" in a heartwarming concert that makes even my early mornings worthwhile. I spend my day digging worms with Ben and telling Leon to stop shoving Isaiah and playing ball with Alex and telling JaJa that she can't use friendship as a bargaining tool, even if Kali did throw woodchips at her face. Then it's naptime and I pat three or four or five of them to sleep before catching the bus home to take my own nap.
I'm settling down into my routine, and I think it will be a good one. Saturdays Shaun and I will go grocery shopping and to the farmer's market, and on warm summer nights we will walk downtown for ice cream and I will end up feeling way more adult than is good or quite comfortable for me yet. I've plans to head to the library or used bookstore this weekend. There's nothing like walls and walls of books to satisfy me in a way nothing else can.