Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored." Or stay away. I don't care. Do whatever you want.
The sun is out. The weather is perfect. Why am I sitting here writing this when I could be folding laundry? There's nothing in this world that's better than folding laundry, except perhaps scrubbing out the refrigerator, which I also am going to do rather than sit here and write this.
I can hardly see through the tears. Our school's Spring Break just began. The security guards had to drag me from the building kicking and screaming. Why, oh why, can't I stay in my classroom, just sitting there and dreaming sweet dreams of future lessons? Why wouldn't they let the students stay? I'll bet I had 50 kids today, on their knees begging me to instruct them in the finer points of persuasive essays. One enlightened youngster was heard to exclaim in despair: "All I want to do is to read Brave New World!"
I tell you, life isn't fair. How will I endure eight days without the opportunity to educate?
Wait. It gets worse. Night school was canceled this week, and it's off next week too. Oh, zounds! Missed chances to hear my genius instructor impart his wisdom and passion, his riveting anecdotes and memorable mantras!
I can't tell you how badly I wish it was April 12.
No, I can't say that I wish it was April 12, because that's just closer to the doggone Spoutwood Fairie Festival, a three-day bore out in a field giving praise to faeries. As if faeries deserve praise. Pesky little buggers. I would poison them, but they crawl inside the walls to die, then they stink up everything.
Another crushing blow. Tomorrow I have to drag my obnoxious daughter to see my loathsome sister in a pestilential place called Western Maryland. My sister actually has the idea that I like to hike. She also has plans to visit a bird sanctuary where they have a caged vulture. Vultures are disgusting. No other word for them. As for hiking, it's only fun if you're drunk.
I'll also have to watch my sister brag about her Rat Fink collection and her outdoor faerie habitat. Kill me now.
Then we're going to go to Berkeley Springs. Talk about an overrated place. Patch of grass with a little bit of water bubbling up in the middle. This is someone's idea of a good time?
EXHIBIT A: THE MOST BORING PLACE ON THE PLANET
So, not that I care whether you read this or not, but I'll be gone a few days ... miserable ... and then, like the Risen Christ, I will return full of the Blood of the Lamb!
In His name,