Birthday wishes, alas, often do not come to fruition. I woke at four this morning, after four--yes, four--hours of sleep, so that I could continue to grade the last smaller for both of my classes. I finished one class's papers, and the bright spot in my day was being able to hand them back to students today. Then I came home to find that my son had spit in a kid's face during library time, and I had to meet with him and a school librarian to go over all of it (when kids do horrid things, that's what the schools make us parents do).
My husband won't be home for at least another 2 1/2 hours (he's at an enforced event--can't get out of it), and since my son was awful, we didn't even get to go to Taco Bell for some Gorditas. What did I have? A salad. And now I'm writing to all of you, even though I still have eleven papers to grade by tomorrow morning, and my neck hurts.
I'd really like to relax and watch something completely vacuous on television. I'd like a handsome massage therapist to come to my door and tell me "someone" hired him to give me a two-hour massage. I want to build a fire in the fireplace, cozy up to a hot chai, listen to some great music, or just go to sleep and make up for all I lost last night.
But I can't do any of that. I can't even talk on the phone with anybody right now, for I don't have the time to spare. I shouldn't be writing my blog right now. I'll just pay for it later, when I have to get up at four again to grade what I didn't get to.
I sure hope my lame birthday doesn't mean I have to be an adult now. Sure, I don't go for all the presents and stuff, or the balloons, or the decorated cake, but I almost feel like my birthday just didn't happen, like my birthday came and went and I didn't notice.
Weird. I hope to post something happier tomorrow. I'll have all the papers graded by then!