9-16-99 Th 1:00 PM
I don't feel like writing. When I got home, I got about halfway through a third-person page before the engine seized. I took the car to night class. Babbled through the two and a half hours. Shirelle showed up. Thought her car had been stolen. Duh. She took it to go grocery shopping. I told her I'd get a ride home with Sheryl. Odilia gave me a plate of food, but I left it in Sheryl's car. Shirelle had taco fixin's cooked up when I got home. Her friend Paula came over to see Bahamas pictures. I ate and went to bed. Woke up suffocating in the night again. I wonder if it's oxygen deprivation that makes me feel so tired even when I go to bed early. For the first time since the new school year started, I had trouble getting out of bed. Eventually, I showered and shaved and brushed and all. Had a bowl of cereal and glass of juice and cup of coffee. Rode to the newspaper stand. Put thirty-five cents in, opened it, and it was empty. I had to settle for the Times, no Opinion. I read the sports page before class started. After class started, we wrote sentences with our vocabulary words and illustrated them. Then we did a workbook page. At recess, I read more about Floyd. Another shooting rampage. Corrected math homework after recess. Gave 'em an elephant puzzle sheet to do. Went to Jack in the Box, had a burger but just a single patty, finished the paper. We read "Where the River Begins" in our social studies books. I have to go to a mainstreaming meeting in crazy Tracy Holzt's room to find out which disabled students from her class are going to study with my class. I've got to read some more Caribbean when I get home. Then I've got to finish the page I couldn't finish yesterday and work on Jim. Work on Jim. Work on Jim. Then I ride to night class. Shirelle's going out with Carmen tonight. I should be able to work some. Maybe I'll smoke a little. It's almost time to go home. 10:13 PM I must have been a prophet. I smoked a little. Then I tried to work out a financial projection for the year 2000 and for June, 2000. It's been a lengthy process. Twenty-six minutes. Is that all? The numbers are playing tricks on me. I thought I would draw a picture in this space and never did, and now there's no more room. Ate tacos.
I don't feel like writing. When I got home, I got about halfway through a third-person page before the engine seized. I took the car to night class. Babbled through the two and a half hours. Shirelle showed up. Thought her car had been stolen. Duh. She took it to go grocery shopping. I told her I'd get a ride home with Sheryl. Odilia gave me a plate of food, but I left it in Sheryl's car. Shirelle had taco fixin's cooked up when I got home. Her friend Paula came over to see Bahamas pictures. I ate and went to bed. Woke up suffocating in the night again. I wonder if it's oxygen deprivation that makes me feel so tired even when I go to bed early. For the first time since the new school year started, I had trouble getting out of bed. Eventually, I showered and shaved and brushed and all. Had a bowl of cereal and glass of juice and cup of coffee. Rode to the newspaper stand. Put thirty-five cents in, opened it, and it was empty. I had to settle for the Times, no Opinion. I read the sports page before class started. After class started, we wrote sentences with our vocabulary words and illustrated them. Then we did a workbook page. At recess, I read more about Floyd. Another shooting rampage. Corrected math homework after recess. Gave 'em an elephant puzzle sheet to do. Went to Jack in the Box, had a burger but just a single patty, finished the paper. We read "Where the River Begins" in our social studies books. I have to go to a mainstreaming meeting in crazy Tracy Holzt's room to find out which disabled students from her class are going to study with my class. I've got to read some more Caribbean when I get home. Then I've got to finish the page I couldn't finish yesterday and work on Jim. Work on Jim. Work on Jim. Then I ride to night class. Shirelle's going out with Carmen tonight. I should be able to work some. Maybe I'll smoke a little. It's almost time to go home. 10:13 PM I must have been a prophet. I smoked a little. Then I tried to work out a financial projection for the year 2000 and for June, 2000. It's been a lengthy process. Twenty-six minutes. Is that all? The numbers are playing tricks on me. I thought I would draw a picture in this space and never did, and now there's no more room. Ate tacos.
posted by johnz at 12:49 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home