"From a gypsy."
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A busy Tuesday. The bell rings for the after lunch class and I run from lunch supervision to get a bathroom break before last class. As I'm washing my hands, I glance in the mirror and notice a rogue hair, nearly an inch long, waving at me from my chin. A rogue facial hair. It was blonde, I'm sure it was having fun. Mocking me. Despite efforts to destroy it and everything it stands for by using my fingernails like mcguyver tweezers, the stubborn rogue hair will not be moved.
And so i opt out of the florescent and just manage on natural light for the last class. keep your distance, children. no one wants the stress of a law suit.
"Student Stabbed by Teacher's Chin Hair"
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Apparently the human body is only really suited for about 35 years of living. Awesome. No wonder fifth grade felt like my prime.
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At 29, playing dodgeball on Tuesday nights sounds about right. Tonight I actually put on workout clothes and tennis shoes and drove around to try to find the place. I almost did. I think I was on the right block. Maybe next week.
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