Peeing Like A Racehorse

We’re driving home and I told the kiddo that I had dibs on the bathroom because I needed to pee like a racehorse. 

It’s silent for a minute. 

Me: Have you ever wondered how a racehorse pees?

Kiddo: N-

Me: ... because I say that a lot. 

Kiddo: Yeah. About that ...

Me: I’ll show you a video when we get home. 

Kiddo: That’s o-

Me: It’s hilarious. 

She wasn’t even impressed. Kids. Meh. 

Randomly Hyperventilating

As I mutter, “I am enough, I am enough.”

Cryogenics

Here is a question my 11 and 12 year old students were discussing in class yesterday: If Walt Disney's head is frozen cryogenically, is he alive or dead?

I didn't tell them that his head is not, in fact, cryogenically frozen. HEY! We are also involved in a fantasy writing unit in Literacy!

Reading

So, I ran into a former student while waiting to see my doctor on Friday afternoon. I was sitting with the kiddo, we were laughing over a Canadian Geographic magazine, when the young man sitting opposite us said, "You used to teach at Wascana, didn't you?"

I look at him, took a moment, then greeted him by name.

He regaled me with all the horrible things that have happened to him physically, but the one thing he said that pleased me was, "I left partway through the year. You were reading us "The Hobbit". I am so sorry I missed the end of that book. It was so good!"

Yes, it was good. It is good. Reading is good. Ten years later, and this young man still remembered a book I read to them. I'm doing something right.

Introverted Blogging

A friend was pestering me yesterday while I was trying to write. Finally I texted and said, "SSHHHHHH! I'm blogging!"

My friend, who I have known for several years, was surprised. He asked how come he did not know this.

Well, there are good reasons for this.

Firstly, I am an introvert. I don't get much energy, creatively or physically, from being around other people. I'm a middle years teacher with twenty-eight students. Ahhhh, the irony.

I am a single parent of an intensive needs child. That can be exhausting, even though it's fulfilling.

My dad just moved to my city. Instead of lessening my stress, it has increased it. This is also exhausting.

So, with all of this, plus maintaining my three small friendships, I do not have time, energy, or inclination to write. Not until I get a goodly amount of time to myself. Fortunately, my kid is ten now, and entertains herself much of the time. So, give me ten days of quiet, and yes, suddenly I begin to write.

I thrive in silence. I thrive in the quiet moments when I do not have to speak, or interact, or be considerate of any other person on the planet. This does not make me selfish, it is simply how I am built. I only wish I had realized this when I was younger. My life would have been easier, simpler, and probably happier.

Of course, it would have been emptier, but I cannot decide if that would be better or worse.

Fading From View

I don't mind aging. I don't think of it as a thrill ride, but I like being on this little blue planet hurtling through space. As I begin knocking at the door of menopause, however, I find some things about getting older seriously annoy me.

I am becoming invisible. As a chubby, middle-aged female, I am finding it increasingly difficult to get assistance in stores. Clerks look through me, or ignore me, or fob me off. I'm not used to this.As a matter of fact, in gaming and tech stores, I typically get decent service. This holiday season, I suddenly noticed that this is no longer the case.

I was in a tech store to buy the kiddo a gaming headset. The three guys on staff were not overly busy, but were not overly eager to help me. I finally helped myself, and then had to wait to pay. You heard me, I had to WAIT TO PAY! At the till. With no one else waiting to pay. With only two other people in the store besides us.

So let me get this straight. I'm going to give you money. You are not waiting on anyone else. Yet you are twiddling with a display rather than taking my money??

Okay.

The kiddo and I had to run out last night to pick up a new controller for her gaming system. After walking up to the clerk, gesturing that we needed a cabinet unlocked, waiting 15 minutes, waving at him, knocking on the glass case, I finally had to call the customer assistance desk to get some help.

I had to use my iPhone to call to the front of the store, to ask someone in Customer Service to please send someone to unlock the case that is holding what we want to buy hostage, because we have been waiting more than fifteen minutes and I am starting to get upset.

Because the dude left.

Actually left.

Went on break, apparently. I was going to give him money, I simply could not get to the item we needed to buy.

And he went on break.

Like I said, I'm not used to this, this feeling that I am fading from view. The almost permanent anger my hormones induce in me makes it super easy to freak out in such circumstances. I actually told the kiddo, "I am sorry. I am starting to feel the rage building, and I am about to make a scene. You can walk away now if you want, or pretend you don't know me."

Of course she opted to stay. She is amused by my rage, when it is not directed at her.

Strange thing is though, that for women, I seem to be coming into focus. Most female clerks are deferential, chatty, and really willing to help. Perhaps they instinctively see the future, and are trying to fight that off for other women.

I kind of remember this happening to my mom, but I was young and really oblivious. I recall her asking me to run and get a sales clerk, or to find someone to help her. I never connected it until now. She was fading from view, and while she never faded from my view, I suspect she faded from the world's view, and that makes me sad. Mostly for her, because I am not sad that I am fading.

I am furious.

If

If family does not actively love you,

If they are unwilling to care about you,

If they do not respect you,

They have chosen to not be your family. 

It's Not Black and White

I had a coworker walk past me this morning, then make a point of walking back, surveying me, then telling me that it's nice to see me wearing something other than black for a change. 

I'm wearing a black shirt with white patches. 

#StupidOrRude

#PassAg