"Mom, get a grip. You can't quit school. You're the teacher."
"Oh. Yeah."
I haven't been in school for . . . what's it been? Forty one years? But I recognize this feeling. Senioritis. I began the term with enthusiasm. A new notebook, sharpened pencils, a clean desk, a clean slate. Now I'm dragging, counting weeks, gazing out the window imagining myself with nothing to do. Maybe that's why I ended up with C's when I started out with A's. I'm a poor closer.
Stop! Right where you are.
You're invited to a
Come-As-You-Are Halloween Parade
Well, that was then. I signed up for this gig and I'm going to finish it, and you are, too. But we need something to jump-start the last three weeks—we need a party.
Stop! Right where you are.
You're invited to a
Come-As-You-Are Halloween Parade
- Get out your phone, your camera, (or your crayons) right this second and take your picture. Absolutely no primping allowed.
- Email it to me: martyhalverson at comcast.net Hook the words together with @ (instead of the word at) like all email addresses.
- Write Goulie Parade in the subject line. Include your first name, and/or blog address. That's it!
Even if you don't send a picture, come to the party!
(That's your homework.)
(That's your homework.)