Me too.
Printable View
I love German airports. Breakfast beers everywhere.
It's all fun and games until you spill your dessert on the floor.
There have been very few happy hours in my life that I've earned as richly as the one that's coming in an hour or so. It's been a hard working, but incredibly gratifying week.
Nothing in particular really; just a hard-charging week in the junior high trenches, capped off by the standard marathon Friday where my teaching partner was out, so it was just me and 31 7th and 8th graders from 8am until 3:15. Any week on junior high is a challenge; I guess I just feel like I met it really well this time around.
I once aspired to be a teacher, until I realized that I would be teaching a bunch of aholes like me at that age. Decided to be a hermit instead.
Happy Hour. Drinking Woodford Reserve to conjure up a feeling that Duke has a chance against the Holes tomorrow and trying to figure out just what species of ant is living off of muffin crumbs and nesting in my computer keyboard.