Tuesday Morning

It's 8:20a.
Yeah, the day, she has begun again. I race through the school to the library, handing off electronic materials, and I get my head bitten clear off by the librarian. "Had you not caught me I would not have been standing here! I'm upstairs!" She yells. My face felt stuck in the blast...pondering mind could not help but feel her words were spent uselessly in my face. There would be no payoff. "...Umm, okay, I can come back later. Thanks." Bipolarity rules.

I manage a quick saunter to my car and begin rummaging through its contents. Banana peel on seat, check. Hatchback opened and water bottles filled, check. Candy thrown into the arms of a bystanding student helper, check. Lackeys rule. So do vagabonds, which I apparently am, judging from the looks of the inner workings of my car.

Now I decidedly sit to the computer and begin my day, taking roll and checking emails. Oh, the busy life of a teacher, I internally report, as my children begin to slowly drive me insane. That's when they get the speech on "instead of wondering why you didn't get run over and how the car keeps missing you, feel thankful that it did."

I made my to-do list and realize what an impossible task my to-do really is. ...and so my most current "built-in Connie feature" is to figure out which priorities are truly most worth prioritizing, which means everything else all but makes the list. Sigh. Trudge, trudge, trudge.

Nutrition rolls around and I spend a portion of it yelling at kids in the hall, which is what they are when they're not in my room, meaning a lot more noise. I breathe Dragon Fire on them, making myself understand my lack of a yoga practice this morning. This is why I practice yoga: because when days like the one aforementioned happen, I'm floating on cloud 9, somewhere else in other worlds, instead of being on the planet with the crap we sometimes swim in. Rambling through..

3:14a : Pin drop thoughts

3:14a. Wow. I should be sleep. I give a great yawn and roll my head once around. Fingertips get to talking and soon the blogging is on, yes it hath begun.

I open my rather weary eyes and cock my head to one side as I type and listen to the bathroom light I've managed to leave running. What do I anymore have to say? Is my voice still there? I have not used it in some time...I sift through the moral compass of my heart and wonder if I've currently made some moves that have promised no one light, love or freedom.

Freedom. Sounds like such a free word, but oh such heavy price to pay, especially when that price is that relationship that could have done this amazing thing but instead, did not and in fact hurt alot of people in the process.
I stand and walk towards my dimly lit room, a shadow of its former self after having thrown away all external coverings. Now not only did I throw away the sheets, I tossed the pillows as well, and with a minimal amount of money, I decided to press on anyway. It needed to be done since it signaled a certain end of a certain energy I had been trying to shake and move for some time. New pillows, new shams, new covers, new color. Oh it is gonna be great to lie in. Alone. Hmmph.

...Well, I did say I threw a lot away... I hope not as much as I feel...

New opportunities await me. As I walk into the kitchen, fragrances stimulate my memory of the kitchen representing comfort, creativity and opportunity. Maybe that's why I stand in there so often.