where's the snow.

They were predicting a blizzard today. It was supposed to start at 4. There's no blizzard. I need school to be canceled tomorrow. It would make a four day weekend, since there's no school on Monday. C'mon, weather.

Today, toward the end of math class, one of my students asked me (fairly loudly) why I was so funny today. I'm always funny, I reply. You just never listen. Betty, another student, contributes, "oh, it's because she ate today. She's always in a better mood when she eats." Which made me question her logic, seeing how 1. I eat the same exact thing every day and 2. Betty has lunch in my classroom daily and watches me eat. That's right, daily. Usually it's just her, but today more kids figured my class was better (and warmer) than outside, so like 6 kids came up to play cards and eat the cashews I always share at lunch.

Cashews are magical, I tell them.

Better than hot cheetos, in any event.

Eli Whitney entered our discussion last night. We all know him as the inventor of the cotton gin. Thanks to our fifth grade teachers, that won't be quickly forgotten. Naturally, we were led to question what use the knowledge has ever given us.

How has knowing who invented the cotton gin ever helped us?

It hasn't.

Who was Eli Whitney, really?

I had a talk with my dad yesterday about what I'm planning to do with my life. Our discussion began with my dad saying:

You know, you're not getting any younger.

Dad, look on bright side, I offered. I could be married to an abusive drunk with three screaming kids and an addiction to pain pills.

After a lengthy discussion, we agreed that it was my best interest to continue school. Advantage: even. My dad can proudly announce that his daughter has her doctorate, all the while I get to put off deciding what I'm going to do for another year or two.

Admire our newly colored twenty dollar bill. Are we trying to one-up Europe? That's their thing, not ours.

Countdown to statistics final continues. Imagine me, trying not to collapse from angst. Reviewing everything from the beginning, avoiding all distractions, study, study, study and... nothing. Still not there. Am destined to be a statistics moron. I don't need you or anybody. Stupid statistics. You're nothing to me.
The end.

Dear Girl

Signed,

Girl Who Sits Across From You

Everybody's got a story to tell.

I must start my problem set. It's due tomorrow. I've had two weeks. I don't know what is keeping me. I have all of the answers; I just need to check them. Come on woman, I think to myself, get motivated. No, I answer, you've got time. It's not due until tomorrow, I tell myself. Lazy, I answer back.

Arg.

Without fail, I find that I am most productive when there is something else that needs to be done

(see: project due Tuesday).

I didn't go to work yesterday. I didn't do much of anything. I finally washed my hair and then took the light-rail to school, with every intention of going to class. Alas, I was far-too-drugged to sit through a three-hour class. I told my professor that I was pretty sure that I would cry or confess my love to everyone in class if I stayed. He agreed that I shouldn't go to class. Erin and I went to the library instead and ate the leftover pizza she had in her backpack. Then we took the bus to the 16th Street Mall and walked around. I didn't feel guilty once for not being in class. That's how good the pizza was. Spinach and Pine Nuts. Mmm. I didn't go to work again today. I can't believe how easy it is to sit around and convalesce. I don't feel sorry for myself. I just don't feel like doing anything.

This is the email I just sent my professor for tonight's statistics class:

I am writing to tell you that I can't come to class. I cracked a rib and chipped my shoulder while snowboarding on Sunday. As I am heavily medicated, I am pretty sure it's in my best interest to stay home tonight.

I have spoken with my group and they said that they will give me the notes from tonight's lecture.

Thanks,
Rebecca

Here's his reply:
Feel better soon.

Cracked ribs are painful, I know.

Gabriel
I cannot contain the excitement of my life when I do absolutely nothing. I think I am going to go watch daytime television. I may even walk to the coffeeshop later.