(no subject)
I spent much of the day worrying that the aggressive ex-lawyer mom of the sweet kid I was bending all the rules & my own spine to give another 24 hours to turn these C grades into B's would come in blazing and tell my boss how shameful it is that I let her boy fail to do his homework yet again...then his much mellower dad came in to help us plan his redemption after school, and it seems they're considering sending him to a private school next year for a smaller class size. Which hurts, but...they're right. He'd be better off. Our nearest private has class sizes half the size I have; if I were teaching there I would've been able to be much more hands-on in dealing with his work habits.
I stop by the drugstore to pick up blood pressure meds, and I pass a tall heavy guy leaning over the rack of merchandise carrying on a cellphone conversation. I overhear him saying, "Look, the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all...no, that's not me, that's Solomon."
I stop in the weird little Italian place run by Lebanese oddballs to get my signature turkey melt w/mushrooms. A Muslim family is there with two twin toddler boys who shriek and cry and shriek and hit some truly terrible high notes at fierce volumes. At first I'm starting to hate on them & the situation - these really are sounds at decibel levels & frequencies that are unhealthy for everyone else in the cafe - then I remember I always travel with earplugs these days. I pull 'em out & put 'em in and smile serenely as everyone in the cafe suffers the sonic barrage with their meal and wishes they were me.
I stop by the drugstore to pick up blood pressure meds, and I pass a tall heavy guy leaning over the rack of merchandise carrying on a cellphone conversation. I overhear him saying, "Look, the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all...no, that's not me, that's Solomon."
I stop in the weird little Italian place run by Lebanese oddballs to get my signature turkey melt w/mushrooms. A Muslim family is there with two twin toddler boys who shriek and cry and shriek and hit some truly terrible high notes at fierce volumes. At first I'm starting to hate on them & the situation - these really are sounds at decibel levels & frequencies that are unhealthy for everyone else in the cafe - then I remember I always travel with earplugs these days. I pull 'em out & put 'em in and smile serenely as everyone in the cafe suffers the sonic barrage with their meal and wishes they were me.