The sky is the off-white of non-fat milk

10-6-99 W 1:29 PM

I’m on the playground with my third graders.  They’re playing handball.  The sky is the off-white of non-fat milk.  It has been a typical day.  I typed a boring fifteen minutes this morning.  I ate an oatmeal bar and drank a cold cup of day-old coffee.  Rode my bike up to school.  I had been thinking of confronting Miona Jones with what a b----h she is, but I decided to just f—k it.  I did the register this morning while the kids worked in their spelling books.  At recess, I hustled over to Taco Bell and swallowed a couple chalupas.  On the way back, I picked up the cums so I can do the ELD levels—a jerk off.  Xavier, the class prick, poked a hole in our handball with his pencil.  We did our math lessons.  At lunch, I stayed in and read the papers.  After lunch, we did silent reading and then we did a lesson on the importance of forests.  Then we talked about writing paragraphs with main ideas and supporting details.  And now here we are. Before I go home, I’ve got to talk to Miss King about horseback riding on Friday.  I’ll read some more Caribbean.  Hopefully, I won’t fall asleep.  Then my third-person page.  I should try to catch Peach at work.  Tomorrow is the last chance to see “The Iron Giant.”  I’ve got to make a tee-time for golf Saturday.  We’ve got a baseball game Sunday.  Nest Wednesday. I’ve got to go to some dumb conference in Commerce.  Shirelle’s off next week, so I should be able to use her car.  Geez, what else?  Maybe I can draw a picture on the next page, but of what?  A steak is thawing out at home.  I think the Braves and ‘stros will be on when I get home.  I’ve got to take these videos back to Blockbuster.  I’ll get “Dark City” next and maybe “Very Bad Things.”  I also want to see “Anatomy of a Murder.”