I read somewhere that email is essentially the same
As it was when it started.
It’s sucked for an awful long time, then.

This day, I spent sending digital communication
After digital communication.
That’s not normally part of my job,

So all you office folks who have no compassion
Since you toil in this sort of drudgery all day,
I feel your pain about the kids being home.

I’m realizing that how important the brick and mortar is,
The face to face time of school.
I’m missing that.

So much in my head
Sanity at times
Seems to be blown away.

Good sleep,
Good eats,
Anything would help.

Crossword failures,
Impatience on every corner,
Frustration fever

Each testing,
All working,
None going away.

Shake things off,
Think clearly,
Keep it going.

Darkened lights,
Perfect for a mental massage
Re-Listen providing the track,
ALO supplying the vibe,
Off I went,
Eyes closing,
XPN tripping,
A big smile
Under blue skies,
Settled in,

The bell rang,
Disastrous to my well-being
Adolescence proving the interruption
Freshmen boys supplying the aggravation.
There I went,
Heart rate rising,
Eyes bulging,
A solid grimace
Under stale, conditioned air,
Socked in,

It’s dark in my office,
Dark on the other side
Of the glass wall,
Dark with rain falling on the other side
Of the brick wall,

I’m sitting in a haze,
A metaphorical contact buzz
After teaching a couple of marijuana lessons.
All I want to do is sit here in the dark
Listening to simple songs
Popular on XPN more than a decade ago.

It’s not dark in my head,
Tired, not high, just worn from the routine
Cool air blows from a fan on my left
And I am realizing that my toe is tapping,
My head is bobbing, and
I’m easing into a brighter place.

Maybe it’s the sleep last night,
The kind of knocked out, deep slumber
A body needs from time to time.
Maybe it’s the caffeine from this morning
The darkest roast I can stomach
With the lightest inspiration, it can manifest.

I don’t know,
But sitting here in the dark,
With the fan, the easy tunes,
And the flossing they are all doing on my brain
Is making for a most peaceful thirty minutes.

Those days,
The ones that rock,
The ones that roll,
The ones like today,
Where exercise was good,
Where work should have been exorcised,
Where stories collided with real life,
This day,
When news of Starkey ran into a coincidental conversation,
When educational training sighted active shooter protocol,
When fallacy met with phallic inadequacy,
And I think I was sexually harassed.
Women told me
That’s a normal thing for them,
If so, that sucks,
Not trying to be funny,
It does,
Much like that portion of my day,
After a Monster of the Midway lookalike
Ran smack into a dodgeball strategist,
Just before a well-meaning volunteer,
Got cracked by a rebar bending overly enthusiastic pseudo-victim.
Yes, one of those days,
Recovered from infamy
By a couple of beers and excellent hole in the wall tacos
With my daughter
Who brings an edge
That makes me proud,
The kind that put my disappointment in a colleagues closet expression of fantasy
In a perspective that allowed me to laugh,
Although, I feel a hashtag movement appropriate in my continued distant and
Professional relationship with the unwanted commentator.
So, as I write this at the end of the day,
I can look back with the perspective of some heavy suds
And allow my truth to flow,
Thank the good lord of education that summer vacation starts tomorrow.

I don’t think I could handle another one of these days.

A question to my colleague,

“Mrs. _____, I looked in your office,
I can’t find any pads. Do you have any pads?”

That one was yelled across a crowded gymnasium
With all the annoyance, attention seeking, and
Absolute disregard for school,
That I hope you read it with.


Two boys were slamming into each other.

Me, “What’s wrong with them?”
An In-the-Transgender-Process Person said,
“Testosterone. Well, too much test anyway.”

Funny, especially since it was uttered by a
Gaining of testosterone switcherooer.

I’ve been at this too long,
Maybe it’s just this year,
Maybe I’m getting too long in the years.
I’m turning into one of those people
Who isn’t phased by the drama,
The hyperbole, the disdain for proper
Social conventions.
I don’t know what’s what
And I’m defaulting to
“I don’t care, anymore.”
Normally, kids can’t phase me,
These two struck whatever gets struck
When an eyebrow goes up.

I don’t care what gender a person wants to be.
That’s not part of my kingdom,
Just don’t hurt anyone and we’re cool.
I do, however, feel immense confusion about
How I should be around those who are changing,
It’s really just clumsy grammar,
New realities need new words, new phrases,
New ways of expression.
That will take time.

As for the other comment,
Straight up rudeness and lack of couth,
Dare I say, “Bad raising…”
Hey, we get the uncomfortableness of that time,
Get help, come prepared, whatever, but
I don’t think it’s necessary
To make a public plea of that type.

This morning proved especially tough for me
End of story,
“Tough” could be anything.
No need to be so attention seeking.
Nobody knows “tough.”
Some things are better kept in private, yes?

What if I just wore headphones
For the rest of this week?

It’s days like this
When I miss the James River,
Its wide crossing,
Its still flow,
The way it told the forecast,
The breeze it partnered with,
The way time slowed by its presence.

It’s days like this
When I wish I’d never picked up a ball,
Never experienced what winning felt like,
The joy,
The ego rush,
The adrenaline,
The way everything felt right after a victory.

It’s days like this
When I can’t fathom ten more years,
A decade seems so far away,
But I know it will be here too quickly,
So much will have changed by then,
Yet, I bet work will still be just as it was