My Cardboard Balcony

Here's the thing, folks: I actually have a lot to say. I do. Not bad things, either. I could share a lot of retrospective and introspective thoughts about the first two months of teaching at my new high school: how I've learned a lot, experimented a lot with my methods, tried to balance out discipline with respect and acknowledged without being walked all over. I could type frantically about my emotional and physical state, my social situation among my colleagues and friends, my mood, my writing progress while also moving double time in order to cram a year's worth of English curricula into a single semester. There is a lot. I just...don't have the energy to talk about it. Not because I don't want to, but because I just don't have the mental capacity to write stuff out. I am just so, so  tired. If sleep is for the weak, then I am a total wuss and proud of it. I know - that's not the first time I've used that excuse. But I do have a back-up plan. So...

Whee by Belinda Roddie Mood swings are way less fun than park swings are.

The Frankenstein's Monster by Belinda Roddie The Frankenstein's Monster is a cocktail that I invented, though the name endures, unoriginal. Although I do fail at creative names, of this, I am sure: the drink can be changed up. For instance, try chilled spiced tea partnered with coconut rum and Canadian blended whiskey. I also recommend vodka - maybe some gin, if vodka isn't quite your preferred base booze? Tea doesn't have to be involved at all, in fact, but once it's shaken, stirred, and poured into a vessel, it should solve your insomnia, make you question fate, and enjoy some Mary Shelley to date.

Dear Diary by Belinda Roddie Left work at 2:35 PM today. Couple of explosions at the local refinery sent me reeling off course. GPS held my hand long enough to gleefully spin back toward the direction I came. Tried a detour and wound up at my parents' place for dinner. Ate lasagna in order to stomach the political debate on TV. Crawled on wheels in freeway darkness for almost another two hours before arriving home. ETA: 9:10 PM. I need a nightcap.