The thing about Thursdays...

Thursday is my hardest day to get through. It shouldn't be, since the number one most difficult student in my classroom is consistantly absent on Thurday. But Thursday has always been hard for me. And this Thursday, I decided to do something about it. I decided to play hooky for the afternoon. I was hoping that playing hooky would make Thursday a more bearable thing. It turns out, Thursdays are still Thursdays and playing hooky doesn't change the nature of it any more than having that difficult student be reliably absent.

Part of the problem is that Thursday is too far into the week to have any energy left. On Monday, the kids are still cute. On Tuesday they are precious souls needing to be filled with knowledge and experience. On Weds they are brilliant and clever. On Thursday, their brilliance has turned to plotting and they cleverness has been put to use hiding things from me. You don't even want to experience the paranoia that seeps in on Friday. But today is Thursday. And it is also too far away from the weekend to really look forward to anyting except the realization that I have not made my weekend plans yet.

The morning started out well enough. I like to wake up to rain almost as much as I like falling asleep to it. Weather does not particularly depress me, unless it is weather that drops below zero and intends on staying there for more than a day. Rain simply reminds me of Paris. Plus it makes all the other colors more vibrant, so I can't really see why some people think it to be a depressing thing. I woke up early too, with enough time to really enjoy the morning and the rain and the cocoa krispies. I even chatted briefly with a friend before really rolling into the meat of the day. But leaving for work was when the Thursday-ness of today really kicked in. On Thursdays, my work schedule makes for a lousy drive. I leave just as the school bus goes through my neighborhood. I have tried timing it so many different ways, but no matter what there is always a school bus in my path. I drive past the elementary school just before they are turning off the 20 MPH signs, which means traffic is backed up. And then I usually drive past the middle school right as they are turning on the 20 MPH signs. I have tried leaving 5-10 minutes early, but it is one of those situations where I end up in the same crowd going the same direction and leaving earlier means a slower drive, therefore arriving at the same time. Of course, if I leave 15 minutes earlier, then I actually get to work about 25 minutes too soon. Timing. *Sigh* And also , I wonder how people who work up where I work all go in to work at 830-9am, but they all leave by 330-4pm. How come they get to work shorter days than me?

This morning's rain did not really affect my drive, it was just a cold rain. The kind that you know if you go a few feet up the mountain, it is snow. And when I turned to go up the mountain to work, sure enough, it turned to snow. Great. Just when I had started bragging to people about how at my job, I get to go out for recess every day.

My radio was already tuned to the classical music station. Lovely. It was a violin concerto. A violin concerto is my favorite form of music. And by form, I mean quite literally, "Form". As in, the soloist and response form, with the cadenzas and the movements and, well, insert music geek stuff here. (I knnow you thought it was the hymn, which is in fact my favorite kind of music. But the violin concerto also speaks to my soul in a different sort of way. I could go on for hours about the properties of either but...) Let's just say that the rain combined with some Perlman made it a little easier to get myself in to the office. Of course, when it violin concerto ended, I switched to NPR, in order to be appropriately informed about the issues or whatever it is that people listen to talk radio for.

I swung into the parking lot at precisely the right time, I know because Marketplace was on NPR and they were finishing up with an explanation of something that I will never completely understand, but I feel smarter for having heard about it.

I headed into work appropriately biased by the news media and thinking the thoughts that they told me to have. It's the American way.

Of course, as soon as I walked into my classroom I was greeted by the precise reason why I choose NPR for my drive into work: The children of wealthy people who are also indoctrinated by NPR and who are paying me to teach their children the same thought process. We are learning about outer space this week. Some of them have decided that they will be the first astronauts to walk on Mars. One of them is a very much too smart for my own health little girl. She announces at breakfast that not only will she be the first person to walk on Mars, she also doesn't like princesses very much.

And audible gasp is heard from the other little girls at the table, followed by fearful silence. Its as if we are in Orwell's 1984, and everyone is terrified that Big Brother heard her. Thay all look at me in silence. The one who, just the other day, told her mom she "won't be beautiful without her jewelry" has a look of confusion and terror on her face. I think she might cry. She is a paradox to me. Her parents are extremely liberal, priding themselves on political correctness and all things "free thinking" but they indulge her every plastic princess desire. Her world is crumbling at the very idea that a little girl might not like the lurid pink and gold glitter disney campaign currently ruling preschool social circles. I decide to break a little more off the foundation of her perceptions.

"I don't like all that princess stuff either. I bet you could go to Mars, and I think its a better thing to try to do than becoming a princess. Princesses set unreasonable expectations of physical appeal and high maintenance habits on us."

Well, most of the kids didn't understand the last part, but apparently astronaut girl did understand, because she responded with "Yeah, besides, all those girls want to be princesses, and all it takes is some toys. I am smart enough to do more than that."

Bravo child, bravo.

By the time recess rolled around, the snow had turned back into rain and we played outside in a cold drizzle. Well, they played. I stood under an umbrella and mediated fights over toys and personal space. I was counting down.

At lunchtime another heated discussion began, this one on the nature of marriage. In Minnesota I always kept my mouth shut for these discussions because the kids had great things to say about their perceptions. Here, the kid were actually debating whether or not boys could marry boys and so forth. The discussion got as heated as you would find in any protest rally or political platform. I was concerned. Another teacher stepped in and defended the boys right to marry other boys. The kids looked at me. I can't believe I am being forced to take a political stance in front of 4 yr olds. I am not going to teach them something that goes contrary to their parents values. That would irk me beyond all belief. I am also not going to assist in raising a generation of children who have no respect for gender or belief.

"Someday you are going to have to choose what you believe. Grown ups disagree on this all the time. Your job is to learn so that you can choose what to believe and then you have to find a way to have respect for all the people, whether you choose the same thing or not. I might disagree with Miss W, but we are still friends and so you guys can still be friends too. Now drink your milk."

Lovely. I resent Thursdays.

We are reading the book "Tale of Despereaux" at naptime. I read a chapter outloud to the kids, and we talk about the story. This is an incredible book and if you haven't read it than I order you to turn off your computer and read it before you go any further in life. Today we read the chapter about the rat that loved the light.

When I finally got out of work, I actually didn't have anything to do or anywhere to go. For the first time since last Thursday, I actually had an hour to myself. It was nice. I was going to meet up with a friend at the Clark Planetarium, and I took my sweet time doing so. When we met, we did as tradition dictated and watched the Hubble feed for an hour. Its a very peaceful thing actually, especially since we are both just nerdy enough to understand and enjoy and make jokes and ask questions and even sit in silence for a while. We learned about some of the stars and about the extra-solar planets that have been discovered in the last 15 years. We learned about how scientists measure gas in the atomospheres of other planets. We learned about the update that will be made to Hubble during 2009, including a maintenance mission to replace the batteries and the camera and stuff. We made some jokes about Pluto's demotion and we tried really hard to figure out where Kolob is. Then we went and got tickets to "Deep Sea 3D" as narrated by Jim Carrey. We got popcorn too. We learned about sharks and cuttlefish and the great barrier reef and we made jokes about being even bigger nerds with the glasses.

She had a rehearsal tonight, so we went our seperate ways, she towards greater musical aspirations and me towards frivolty. There is this pair of shoes I have been drooling over. However frivolous and girly it may be, when I find shoes I love, then I love them. I loved them before it became popular on that TV show, I love them because they fit. No matter what my body image may be, shoes fit. No matter what my frump level may descend, shoes describe. And this pair of shoes is an adorable peep toe heel that is an insane $160. No matter how much I love the shoes, I am not shelling out $160. So I watch for them to go on sale, with every hope in my heart.

Oh look. A shoe sale. My heart is beating faster. There they are. Half off. $80 is still alot for shoes. I turn away but my brain is going. I need shoes. (No I don't) but normally I would spend $20 on shoes. So I really just need an extra $60. I can skip going to Baja Sol tonight, and skip ice cream this weekend. That's already $20 saved. I'm halfway there. I won't be playing this weekend. I will be earning my new shoes by eating cold cereal and oatmeal and ramen and doing responsible and cost free things like, well, I don't know yet, but something brilliant. I hope I can have $80 by monday. I hope the shoes will still be there on Mon. Suddenly Monday seems like it will be a very good day.

And also, suddenly, I realize that at some time in the past few hours, the cold drizzle has stopped and the sun has come out and I am driving home with my car windows down. Thursday is nearly over. Friday is around the corner. I can deal with the Thurdaysness of the evening. I have a goal in sight. Oh it is a frivolous goal, but it has pulled me through Tursday. And that alone makes it a valuable goal.

I get home and settle into bed. It's as good as Friday now. Here's to hoping I dream of good things: