It's just past seven, and I'm done my lesson planning for tomorrow. I haven't felt this together in a very long time: alert, aware, cheerful, and full of dedication ...well... if not dedication, at least a slightly less grim acceptance of my life. Spent the morning completely zonked, coping slowly and fitfully to my angry, sleepy, partied-out students. I changed the seating plan this morning, so their little walnut brains had to adjust to a lot. All of the jailbait/jailbound showed up today, and I discovered how unwelcome a full class can be.

Still, my mantra remains true: I can only live one day once.

One of my vice-principals asked after my health this morning and suggested that I consider going on disability until my physical problems subsided. The idea sent me reeling. On one hand, it was the stupidly easy answer I craved. On the other hand, I can't think of any way to put a positive spin on a board-subsidized nervous breakdown in my first year of professional practice. We'll see how I feel when the anti-depressants really kick in.

The Boy is doing well these days. He's in love with his courses, especially Biology, and he's been combining my early hours with his own desire to study. The results have been gratifying for the both of us: I get a fresh lunch every morning and he gets a long morning before his classes. In a broader sense I'm trying hard not to poison his year with my own desire to be safely cocooned in a student lifestyle. He understands this, as he understands most things about me.

It's weird to look at all the luck in your life and yet not be entirely happy. I think I'm rather ungrateful. Which is, I suppose, the understatement of the year.

3 years ago today: barely cerebral