# 134 aka I can breathe again
The end of the term / course is just around the corner. It's the middle of Week 10; stu-dents finished their exams yesterday which meant teach-hers went home, cracked their heads against a collective wall, spilling grades of varying success onto stu-dents' hopes and / or dreams.
I failed one out of fifteen. Perhaps that should be rephrased: one out of fifteen students whose work I graded managed to botch up the exam good and proper. The probability of him passing the course is about as likely as him having brunch on the dark side of the moon with Pink Floyd this Friday... Poor bastard.
Meanwhile, the opportunity to do squat-all for the next two weeks looks like a distinct symphony waiting to be conducted. In my mind I have already picked out a tuxedo for the occasion; the morbidly obese lady, whose giant flabby ankles are handcuffed to the base of a sturdy chair, is lubricating her lucrative tonsils with extra virgin olive oil.
Plans? I'm glad you asked. At the helm of the list is a good night's sleep. Call me past my use by date, call me a candidate for prosthetic knee joints, call me Andy the Octogenarian if it'll make your day any easier; after ten weeks of fuck-all regular or prolonged sleep thanks to topic sentences, thesis statements and Tetris blocks falling under my quilt, I'm ready to nod off for the sheer fuck of being able to do so.
Yes, there will be no more need for twenty-minute naps on the bus. Yes, there will be rest.*
Apart from that, my significant other tells me there is an opportunity for the Kaufmans to drive down the peninsula and into a mansion sized shack FREE OF CHARGE. The orchestra is tuning.
I hope there'll be time to take a few snaps between now and the commencement of the next course. I know I'm up for it.
How the hell are you doing?
* I bet my seven-month-old girl has other plans.
10 comments:
found a long sought balance between writing and the real world, finances a little scary but prospects are mediocre. masterpiece being slowly mastered as i reassemble those various bits of toilet paper.
enjoy any rest granted by the most powerful member of your family and any road trips you can muster.
Glad you're free for a time, enjoy it.
Perhaps the little one will take it easy on you.
Things are nice here, we've taken a weekend trip recently and are in the process of buying a new house so that we can accumulate more crap.
Can't believe your little mite is over 6 months old now. How time flies.
I bet you're asleep right now.
BB: It's something I've always wanted to do. More power to you for having the determination to see it through to the end. I'd love to read it from start to finish one day. Perhaps it can involve PayPal and a few stamps.
The rest so far has been phenomenal, and I haven't even finished working yet! Thankfully the final week of the semester involves exam marking, an outing to a pub (today) and a graduation (tomorrow).
I even managed to get an afternoon nap in today. Talk about bliss...
:)
M: She's been wonderful of late; really interactive and vocal (sounds of varying pitch rather than grammatically perfect sentences). Experts talk about babies going through spurts. I think her current spurt involves uber cuteness.
I was pleased to read that you and your wife were successful in getting the house. $20,000 below asking price puts you ahead in my books. I bet you can't wait to move in.
:)
UTMG: Time stands still for no man; she'll be seven months in three days. I'm in the process of growing a beard (aka not shaving because it's five degrees outside and I need all the protection I can muster) and I'm noticing more grey hair than the last time I did that. The wife calls it the salt & pepper look which is why I frequently burst into b-b-b-baby... get off on this... push it real good et al.
I was asleep when you wrote that. I'll be round tomorrow to read about your festival road trip .
:)
I have a beard. It's not great, but I am the first male of my family to sport one so openly.
That is how I hope to remembered in the annals of family history.
I can't wait to teach college--that's what I assume you are doing off this post, anyway. I have a friend who paid me cash to sub for her at the local college a few times, write the prompt, have them write, anyone reads. I wrote and read each time. That would always get everyone to want to read. I had no problem filling up two hour of creative and advanced creative writing.
Then the drugs and alcohol happened...
just kidding. Those are how I got here to being a monumental layabout writer. But one day soon.
Brunch with the Floyd. sweet. And the fat lady, too.
And thank for the word on interpretation. Thanks indeed, as I always forget the important things when I think too much about what I do. I think it's all quite boring except for spots, sometimes--only rare other times do I live easy with it. But I'll keep getting better. Glad for the word, drop by anytime and talk about whatever--you and everyone else. I like the monotony and seriousness to get broken wide open. Thanks, Kaufman. Peace
Toast: I share that wish. My wife is being deliberately evasive, as is little gilr o' mine, yet my instinct tells me the beardo is the way to go-o at the moment-o. It's howling a gale outside at the moment and I look daft with a scarf draped around my precious white throatage. Even though I can't stand them, photos are the order of the day as the beard ages me by about 30 years. Hmm... 66 doesn't have an attractive ring to it. :(
Eric:Yeah, me iz a teacher at kollege. The kidz am foreign language students. For me, the drugs and alcohol happened prio to what I'm doing now, although I think they would help immensely round about now. :)
Re: 'Brunch with the Floyd. sweet. And the fat lady, too' it would be pretty cool, if nothing else than the experience of seeing the dark side of the moon.
I'll be round your blog pad as often as I can. It's not as easy as pre-baby but I still get a kick out of seeing and reading the works of likeminded people out in the blogosphere.
we societal sponges just love you employed types. i'm sure it can be arranged my friend.
It's all good, man. Take your time. You have a lot on your plate.
I'll be kicking still in a while
I'm at the helm of a Klingon Warbird.
What is this ship called 'Sleep' you speak of?
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