My Cardboard Balcony

So, even though this wasn't one of the most stressful weeks I've had, it felt so good that it was Friday today. We're now hurtling toward the final deadline for Yearbook. Spring sports are once again the bane of my existence because the rain has caused multiple game cancellations. I had to explain to my English students that having a grown-ass adult date an underage person is bad - regardless of how close to being 18 they are (seriously, that conversation happened). Got home today and read stuff on Stephen Glass and other journalists because why not. Ate some pizza. Now I'm getting sleepy, and it's not even 10:30 PM yet. Welp - time to nod off, then. This weekend, I'll be taking the wifey on a clothing shopping spree for her birthday. Maybe I'll snag an outfit or two as well. Have a great night and a great weekend, everyone.

Sweet Tooth by Belinda Roddie Kevin was a white cat. He liked eating my cupcakes.

I know what you're thinking, and yes - I know we look similar. We may not be related, but the hair is the same hue of red, the eyes the same shape and color. Our freckles settle like dead stars in the same constellations, and I know that freckles are compared to stars so damn often, but that's what it seems like when we stare at each other - like holding a mirror up against the night sky. We are in the same solar system, swiveling around the same sun.