Shit’s been going down.
Mostly because I went to Wal-Mart on Halloween, and as I looked at my cart before I checked out, I realized just how awesome (sad) I’ve become. The contents of my cart:
- cat food (with coupon for free bag of cat treats)
- cat litter (with coupon for $1.50 off said jug of cat litter)
- a six-pack of Smirnoff
- a bag of pears
- Wal-Mart brand Apple Jacks (I think they’re Apple Smacks? Stacks? Something catchy)
- two gigantic bags of Halloween candy (that I had no intention of sharing)
- Zombieland on DVD
- The Last Unicorn on DVD
That was my Halloween. I polished off the 1.5L of Pear flavored Arbor Mist while I watched Zombieland. I know it’s a funny movie, but I couldn’t help but be mildly terrified because I live in a 100 year old house with creaky floors, poorly insulated windows that shake and shudder with the wind, and two ridiculous beasts that jump about and stare down empty hallways as if there’s something at the end of it. So then I watched The Last Unicorn and reminisced in childhood bliss.
I told my students “Be safe. Make good decisions. And if you don’t make good decisions, at least be around someone who can make good decisions so you don’t die from alcohol poisoning or stupidity and I can see your smiling faces on Friday.” That day, our writing prompt was “20 rules you’ve broken,” and I learned more about them than I intended. I even prefaced it with “You don’t have to tell me everything and I will never collect your daily writings,” and shared my own broken rule of taking tags off the mattress even though it says not to. Some of their responses were concerning, though they hedged their language smartly (I have taught them something!) by saying “I’ve inhaled THC” rather than “I’ve smoked THC.” Silly pupils.
Now that we’re in November, I’m delighted. My birthday will be in a few weeks, then Thanksgiving, then I will make the GRE my bitch, then we’ll have finals, and then it’s Christmas.
Pseudo-homeless man that I’m hopelessly in love with is back in town (which I learned from a phone call about seventeen minutes ago) so I’ll get to see him again before he moves back east. It felt almost like a break-up phone call. “Have you seen my black shoes? Did I leave those at your house?” “I don’t know. All I have here is your bag of clothes and your hockey gear. When are you coming to pick them up?” “In due time.” “Well, I’ll be around tomorrow. And if I’m not, you still have my key, right?”
It’s like we had the shitty relationship without any of the perks (euphemism). As much as I’m trying to hold onto the whole wonderful-time-of-the-year goodness that the season brings, the precedent set within the last two years is the end of one five-year relationship and the end of a two-year whatever-the-fuck-this-was relationship.
I swear, one day I’ll get this right.
avamaura 