april 2, 2001. Bloody time change. I've been draggin' my face around all day. The weekend's body-weakening festivities didn't help; neither did the Boy's 4:30 a.m. departure for work this morning. I actually looked forward to teaching first period, because then my responsibilities would be completed. The class itself went surprisingly well; I submit that it was because a) I didn't make them copy down overhead notes, b) it was first period after the weekend and they were tired, c) they handed in an essay today, making them feel more relaxed & mellow than usual, d) I only asked that they read the first segment of the novel for today, taking much of the pressure off. Last semester the class worked on a see saw of good and evil - every second day was misery. If today's beauty of a class was just the board swinging to 'good,' I will be considerably disheartened. Still, a good day is a good day. I also took a period of resource help today, which mainly consisted of math help and explaining why we don't use the word 'paki' in conversation. I should have logically gone through why it's rude and inaccurate, but instead I boiled over. "If we don't call them pakis, what do we call 'em?" they asked insolently. I wanted to say, "you don't get to call them anything, you white trash piece of shit." But I just glared, which is much less effective. I should call Nic to get some perspective - he works with angry young men every day and he never seems bothered by it. Maybe there's a course of antibiotics I can take to toughen my emotional skin. I can only hope medical science is keeping pace with me. God loves his children, yeah... Every year I spend my last dollar in a club on Dirk's birthday. This year I couldn't participate in Dirktoberfest, and it screws up the shape of my whole year. Happy 31st birthday, Dirk. I've just looked through 3 years of birthday memories and I wish I could go broke for a good cause. right: palaver, rocketbride & jimmy silverthumb during the infamous "wedding incident."