Life gangs up on ya sometimes. Take, for instance, this week. It is the last week of my condensed summer term, and I had to prepare my portfolio and write lesson plans as well as do all the regular reading.
At day job, all my books reached crucial points in the publishing lifecycle at once. I needed to clone myself just to accomplish everything at work, never mind the classwork on top of it. And a certain vendor kept f-ing up a certain book's front matter, and nothing I could say seemed to make them do it right on the next try. Or the next. Or the next. I'm not supposed to work on Fridays, per my agreed-upon schedule, but here I sat today, checking work email to finalize this damn front matter.
But my portfolio for class, complete with sheltered English lesson plans, is now neatly tucked into my binder. The front matter is finalized. I still have to finish the readings, though, and attend a birthday party tonight. Class is tomorrow at 9 AM. Dear me.
A peaceful moment. After an evening storm yesterday, I went for a walk in the park. Over the pond to my right shimmered a huge rainbow, arcing across the clouds. Over the hill to my left, bright purple-orange clouds marked the end of the day. As I walked around the pond and over the hill, the colors faded from the sky, and a blue heron flew across the gray expanse. A jet appeared above and behind him, adding its vapor streak to the graying sky.
Nothing Is Sacred
1 month ago