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april 13, 2001.We broke our bed today. It seems like the typical newlywed thing to do, doesn't it. We were...well, anyway, we broke our bed this afternoon and now we get to sleep on mattress on the floor like punks. I think I'm going to pretend that it's penance for Good Friday.
After all the talk about Easter plans this week, I found myself going from relatively indifferent to curiously lonely. I've been missing my extended family as well as my immediate one. In all honesty, it's more likely that I'm missing the idea of family rather than the real McCoy - when I think about the scene likely to be played out at my Aunt's house this coming Sunday, I feel a sneaking relief that I'm not actually going to be there in body. Of course I miss the regard, I miss people taking a more-than-casual interest in me. I miss visiting the Boy's family, who are so new that they are still polite to me when they would rather be abrupt. And I miss the way that family gatherings so nicely offset the time you spends with your chosen family (or friends). There's nothing like the first time you go out with your friends after a marathon visiting session. The air seems impossibly fragrant, trouble impossibly distant. I love my family, of course, but holidays can be very heavy going at times. I'm sure you understand. So of course it's the idea I miss, the Platonic ideal of family visiting. But knowing that fact is not much comfort, really.
Today has been kind of a washout. Now that I'm off the semi-professional hook, I just mope about, blowing my nose. I've finally admitted that I'm sick. During the school week I thought that it would be an appalling lack of moral fibre to make this admission; now that responsibility is done with me until Tuesday I can be as sick as I like. Not that I like to be sick, but really, my life is the kind of life that can be lived just as well sick as healthy: there's a lot of sitting down and contemplating the view from the car on the best of days. Talk about your lack of moral fibre. I do have things to do this weekend, aside from the normal round of maintenance chores. In class I set a largish assignment for yesterday, and I decided to let some students hand in their assignment through email (although I warned them that if I didn't receive it, they would not get the benefit of the doubt.) Stuff - and that's a charitable term for it, really - keeps trickling into my university account, reminding me of all the marking I have ahead of me this weekend. Sigh. The unforgiving life of the student teacher - all of our judgements are questioned by students anxious to exploit any weakness, with no reward but the rewards of the spirit we find for ourselves. I sound sorry for myself, right? I wouldn't trade it for the world. This is exactly where I need to be right now. How many others are so lucky in knowing that?
Two links to finish up your Good Friday:
See you soon. |
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From the good folks at the Onion, 
