No, seriously.  I am absolutely terrible at being alive.  And I’m ready for summer to be over.  This notion that two months more-or-less-off in the summer is a “perk” for teachers makes me insane, people.  If I don’t have a schedule to follow of some sort I degenerate into a fat, unwashed mess of unmotivated sludge so fast that it’s astonishing.  Right now?  I got home from work thirteen hours ago and I’m already so bored I want to die.  Most of that time was spent asleep.

There has been more than one point in my life where I was working three jobs, and for my working life I’m pretty sure there has been more time where I’ve had multiple jobs than when I haven’t.  So summertime, where I not only have only one job but that job isn’t even full-time, is torture.  I have been awake for four hours and these few, crappy little sentences are all that I’ve done.  Wait, no– I dragged myself into the kitchen twice, once to eat two granola bars and let the dogs out, and a second time to eat a microwave pizza and let the dogs out again.  I’ve technically eaten two meals and I haven’t showered yet.

I have about a month left until I can start spending ten hours a day in my classroom and griping about that.  I seriously don’t know if I can keep my shit together until then.  Also it is a hundred thousand degrees outside and fuck that.  It was so humid yesterday afternoon that I could drink the air.  It’s not that bad just yet but it’s supposed to be again later.

Arrrrrrrrgh.

Twice this week I’ve run into people in public who I used to be really close to but haven’t seen in fifteen to twenty years.  In both cases it’s led to half an hour or so of relatively pleasant conversation (“relatively” because one of them started off with me saying “what the hell are you doing here?” before I realized how rude that sounded and the other because it started with an accusation of Unfriending on Facebook, which, while it was almost certainly true, I didn’t remember doing it and therefore couldn’t defend myself adequately; plus, as everyone who is in regular touch with me knows, I’m not normal about Facebook; in both cases the conversation started with me way off-balance) but I’m seriously wondering when the hell the almost-inevitable third shoe is going to drop.  I spent some time last night going over everyone I’ve ever known in my head and trying to figure out who has the most reason to be pissed off at me and now I’m thinking about doing some cyberstalking to figure out if those people live anywhere near me.  Of course, that won’t be terribly helpful– one of the two lives in bloody Norway and still managed to run into me in a bookstore in Indiana, which is a pretty fuckin’ impressive feat.

I should take a shower, shouldn’t I?