My Cardboard Balcony

Short work week today! And yet, I still feel like a lot was done. My Yearbook staff finally seems to be settling on a visual theme and cover. We're taking photos and starting some writing. I'm getting to know my English students more. I'm able to meet with teachers and colleagues to improve my equity in the classroom and my outreach and support toward students with special needs. And I actually got to spend a Friday with my wife and take her to dinner. Thank goodness. I've also made some mistakes in terms of a few interactions, and I'm beating myself up for it, but I have to remember that I am not a bad teacher or person. I just gotta keep improving and watching what I say or do more. Yay, I'm human! Now I can actually relax this weekend and enjoy myself - maybe I can even continue Goza and do some more personal writing. We shall see! Have a great night and a great weekend, everyone.

Boo-tiful Breakfast by Belinda Roddie Needless to say, the ghosts couldn't digest bacon or eggs.

Come Have A Cup by Belinda Roddie Come have a cup of maple ginger tea with me on this chilly September night. It doesn't taste exactly as I dreamed that it would taste, but the brew is all right. I'll let your head rest on my shoulder, steep the contents of my mug until it's dark, and count the minutes 'til I fall asleep while trains roar and the neighborhood dogs bark a chorus of threats and apologies. There isn't much to offer, where I stand, the words meager, all too surprisingly, so I compensate by holding your hand, remembering why I hold you so dear, as my sonnets total one complete year.

To be polite, one must hold their tongue. They must stand their ground, yet not utter a sound. They must appease every single one of their colleagues, even if perhaps they are wrong. One must hold their fork and knife in the correct hands, at the correct angle, at the correct time. But courtesy isn't always required, and some bastards should just be stabbed in the eye by tines.

Onus by Belinda Roddie It is not on me to make you feel safe to make you feel warm or feel at home It is not on me to love you so yet here I am impulsively devoted to you and you alone

Jealous? How could I ever be jealous of you? You don't want anything that I have! You don't want my house, you don't want my wife. You're not interested in any of my possessions. As far as I'm concerned, you're happy to ignore me for the rest of your life. So why on God's green earth would I ever be jealous of you? And don't even say you meant, "envious," 'cause I'm not that, either!