april 10, 2001. Another day of wheezing like a broken accordion. Honest to god, I'm starting to feel like the sad little penguin in Toy Story 2. "I forgot...you're broken. I don't wanna play with you anymore..." The Boy is off on one of his trips and I tried my best to make him feel guilty about leaving me in such a delicate state. "You'll be really sorry if I die when you're on the road," I warned him sternly. "I suppose that if you die, you'll get 'Boy, I told you I was sick' written on your tombstone," he sighed. Hmph. Let's see how many jokes he makes as a tragic young widower. Teaching continues. I'm developing unit fatigue after 7 daily lessons of 80 minutes apiece. And if I don't want to think about the book, I can't even imagine what the students must be feeling. Oh wait. Yes I can. It starts with 'this' and ends with 'sucks.' I assume that most of my fatigue comes from the fact that I get short of breath walking to the staff room and would really rather do my squeaky breathing at home. 2 more lessons until Easter. That has to be the new mantra. 2 more lessons until Eater...ohhhhmmmm. I feel better already.