Summer Days

Last day of school. Early dismissal at 11:30. What in God's name could I do to contain the crunk 3rd grade on such a day? "Bring 'em to P.E.," Coach Fantastic Lady That Always Saves My Ass instructed, "we'll play the classes against each other in dodge ball". Was I dreaming? I lined them up and brought them in and as soon as the Bee Gees started playing loudly throughout the auditorium, ball started flying everywhere. And kept flying everywhere. For over an hour. This is the life, I thought. Both classes of the day knocked down and I barely had to lift a finger. The kids zipped by, eyes narrowing, dodging and whipping balls at each other. I saw some talents I had never seen in Spanish class. It was awesome.

And then they were gone. I sat through two pitiful days of post-planning, waiting for those a-holes to cut my feral ass loose. And I didn't go feral. I am just waiting, waiting, waiting for the minute I get in the car, get in the car and drive to Arizona, drive to California, drive to Tijuana, go south, drive that car all over the place. Fly to Nicaragua. Run wild, not just sit in this hot city. I should have left at 11:32 on Thursday. I don't need any down time. Time to clean the house, time to do the laundry? I don't need it.

I just need to go.