Perchance to Dream

I went to bed at 10:20pm because I was tired beyond a coherent sentence.  It seems I get myself worked up too much about writing Composition papers.  My guys tell me to just sit down and start typing, that everybody has a brain that goes numb at the beginning, but once into the groove, the words can be sorted out.
I should know better than to go to bed so early.  For the last year, I sleep maybe 5 hours at a stretch, then I wake up and think about all the stuff on the To Do List and lay there watching the shadows loiter on the ceiling.  Usually, I stay up until midnight, then wake up at 5 am, which seems reasonable.
This time, Mahalia was scratching at the bedroom door at 3:20am, so by the time I got up and figured out what she wanted, I am awake for the duration.
Coming into the kitchen, the room held the lingering smell of the evening supper’s chili.  The kettle and unrinsed dishes were still on the counter because Mom wanted to take us to Starbucks for dessert.  I emptied the dishwasher and re-loaded it.  Running the machine at 5:30am without benefit of the Delay button, well, this may be a first.

Coming to the computer, I thought I might get a head start on the latest Educational Psychology homework.  Every chapter’s portfolio assignment has what is called an Interview question, and a Philosophy of Education essay.  I didn’t do so bad on the first chapter, but the last one…hmm.
The interview question talked about Junior High school age girls and one of them sent out a derogatory e-mail about another girl.
To the school’s full address list.
What would I, as the teacher, do about this?
I said I would have to call in the Principal, I have no clue.  I intend to work in Pre-school.  So I got questions, and a chance to re-write.  No, really, based on what was studied in the chapter, what would I do?
I said that I would not think about it, before I find myself as a teacher in a Junior High, I would be working the drive-thru at MacDonald’s.  I know my nerve limits, and potty mouth adolescent girls are beyond me. 
It does not pay to be a smartass on college papers.
I got a 6 of 10.

My husband says I have to get over this emotional attachment, be willing to earn a decent grade, and just put some words they want to read on the paper.  He could do this in his sleep.  My husband is not a mere mortal and often is quite willing to jump into situations where he probably shouldn’t be.  It took a bicycle accident for him to even slow down, and now a year later, he still wants everything to be alright again.

So, anyways, I have a 5 page Composition paper to be written as a Rebuttal to an article I found in the newspaper, an interview question about multi-cultural lesson plans, 4 Math problems, and a whole new chapter to read about the music of the Baroque era.
As the clock has proven, I am not doing this in my sleep.  It keeps me from sleep.  Along with the night sweats and heart palpitations of menopause.

Did I mention my mother-in-law is visiting from Seattle?  Lots of talking, many reminisces.  It’s too bad the sons are not listening.  Hearing stories about their dad in his younger days might be good for them.  This is a busy time for college students.  Mid-term grades coming sooner than soon.  Mine don’t look too high.
~~love and Huggs, Diane

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