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I'm ready to be sent to a home for the bewildered. If your room is next to mine, the only sound you will hear is my nervous laughter. I'm definitely holding off having kids for another ten years or so. Or maybe I'll just be the neighborhood cat lady. Fresh food, fresh water, a kiss on the nose and a scratch behind the ear. Let them outside and they are good for the rest of the day. No arguments with siblings and it doesn't take them an hour to eat toast.
I went to the dentist today. I couldn't remember if my appointment was at 2 or 2:30, so I asked the receptionist to look it up. She looks at me and says "Your appointment is last week." How did I miss that??? Sure, I didn't feel so great last week, but I didn't think I'd just feel so horrid that I'd forget that I had a dentist appointment. I even wrote it on my calendar as today. I laugh bewilderedly as I walk out to the car certain that they are wrong and I am right.
So, I leave the dentist, and I'm hungry. I swing by my favorite Chinese takeout place and order sweet and sour chicken. I make my way back to the institution otherwise known as “college.” By now my coveted parking spot has been confiscated by some other parking challenged school goer. I drive around for twenty minutes smelling the delicacies hidden in the plastic bag in the passenger seat of my truck, my mouth yearning for just a taste. I find myself praying that God will miraculously open up a parking spot. I firmly believe that God answered my prayer—just not in the way I expected. My miraculously opened parking spot was a mile away from class. I catch the cross campus taxi (AKA the bus) and I carry my not so hot sweet and sour chicken and fried rice to a table in West Hall. I’ve always felt that the only way to eat Chinese food is with chopsticks (when in Rome (China) and all). But, I was never quite this hungry for Chinese food either. I quickly disregard the chopsticks in favor of the much loved and well known spork. I'm too hungry to waste time eating pork fried rice five grains and a carrot at a time. I glance down and what have I done? I’ve managed to spill hot pink/red sweet and sour sauce on my periwinkle blue sweater, forming a nice purple spot. And of course it’s no where that it can be camouflaged. I grab a folder to cover my front and rush to class.
It’s my last class of the day--Grammar. What joy this class puts in my day! How I love my Julie Andrews look-alike teacher who so enjoys putting me on the spot in class. I’m convinced she lives to prove that I’m dumb. I’m not. It’s just taking me a while to learn this mathematical equation that they call a sentence. This class is definitely “Math Meets English.” I find myself regularly going to the teacher’s office to be tortured, er, tutored.
I finally get back home with the girls that I am babysitting. Well, their home, not mine. They argued the whole way to my house to pick up some CD’s and a swimsuit. I turned on the radio and tried to ignore the sounds of sibling rivalry at its finest. I got them back home, in the shower, and then upstairs. Sang a lullaby, read a story, and got a kiss and then peace and quiet accented with an occasional nervous chuckle. In the back of my mind I hear the call of my future…’Here kitty kitty kitty…”
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