Mixed Feelings
Friday, January 30, 2009
So, a couple of weeks ago my 12-year old Twilight-loving disciple gave me the flu. A flu that endured through inauguration week, hampering my righteous pursuits of karmic justice and filling me with all manner of ennui. A flu that had me cursing my weak immune system and seeing everyone around me as a potential source for disease and misery and seeing myself as same. A flu that reinforced my natural inclinations toward self-containment and lack of patience with my own frailty and dependence. Melancholy, deflated, fatigued. But that was then.
Yesterday, I strode once again through the child-laden halls of the 826 tutoring center, this time with an unapologetic lingering chest cough and an uncompromising irritability toward anyone under the height of 5 feet. My afternoon headache from a morning of coughing was just starting to come on, and I was feeling even less charitable toward the beastly little contaminants than usual. It's days like these when I remember that I often don't like kids. Which is why I prefer to volunteer in the back room with the databases and website rather than in the front with the sticky hands and bad manners. Still, I know that children are our future and that it's my responsibility--and in my interest--to help them out. But yesterday, I couldn't keep myself from wishing something besides needy, gooey kids could be our future. Maybe plants. Or hardwood floors.
Of course, to counter this curmudgeonly attitude, I forced myself to remember that there are times when the kids and I have fun. Like at 826, when they come bounding back to get some supplies and end up engaging me in lengthy conversations about dessert toppings or Nazi propaganda techniques (hey-it happens). Or like when my 12-year old disciple excitedly shouts, "See! I'm focusing!", when we're working on her homework. And those things are good and should be remembered because being mindful of the good things helps motivate me toward the larger goal. Even when I'm not feeling it. Even when they give me the flu, making me feeble and useless. I guess.
Little bastards.
Nothing New byslag
at
9:15 AM
2 dispense karmic justice! (or just comment here):
''this time with an unapologetic lingering chest cough and an uncompromising irritability toward anyone under the height of 5 feet. My afternoon headache from a morning of coughing was just starting to come on, and I was feeling even less charitable toward the beastly little contaminants than usual. It's days like these when I remember that I often don't like kids. Which is why I prefer to volunteer in the back room with the databases and website rather than in the front with the sticky hands and bad manners. Still, I know that children are our future and that it's my responsibility--and in my interest--to help them out. But yesterday, I couldn't keep myself from wishing something besides needy, gooey kids could be our future. Maybe plants. Or hardwood floors.''
You... MUST... write... weekly... column!!!
You are a **very** good writer. Need to spin it into fame (and cash).
Re: Other than children being our future.
Good thought -- but your other options fail the Whitney Houston test:
-''I believe potted plants are our future; water them well and let them lead the way...''
-''I believe hardwood floors are our future; keep them varnished and let them lead the way...''
Meh.
--GG
GG--I think you're biased. But your advice (and lagging sales :) inspires me to try something new. I'll look into freelancing and see what happens. No harm in learning new stuff.
I don't know...I kind of like the "keep them varnished" version.
Post a Comment