december 12, 2001. I got 10 hours of sleep last night. How, you ask? Well, I went to bed at 8:30 pm (and yes I know that not even 3-year-olds go to bed at 8:30 pm but I did and would you like to make something of it?) And then I slept through my alarm. Tada! I was a bit late, but marvellously relaxed. That is, until I had to deal with The Worst Twelve-Year-Old In The World - although he's not, not really. He's not as bad as the 8th Grade kid I knew 2 years ago when I was volunteering. This one is just confining-bad, not needs-to-be-hung-bad. Actually, he just needs something to live for - some dignity, some purpose, some reason to act like a human being. He had a peeling, faded temporary tattoo on his bicep today and I found myself wondering how many real ones he would get before his time was done - and how many would be paid for with cigarettes, drugs or beer. The members of the local L'Arche community have more quality of life than he does or might ever have, and it makes me depressed. Of course, it's hard to access that compassion when he's doing everything short of hitting & cursing...and then literally crying with frustration when we "holler" at him. The worst part is that he's only one of a dozen kids in that class who should have all of my attention all the time. Nevertheless, there's only 50 more instructional minutes left with this ridiculously awful class, then it's just babysitting them for the rest of the term. And I think I can handle that without a lapse back into Vasquez-ish reverie. Or so I hope. There are 5 ½ more school days left in the term. I can handle the day now, although it's still not giving me joy. I was almost happy today, but the feeling soon passed. I don't think I'll be missing this assignment when it's done, not like the high school classes of yore. As everyone keeps saying, "I don't think you like teaching Grade 7." And on that ridiculously obvious statement, I'll leave off for the night. this time 2 years ago: people do this all the time