Monday, March 2, 2009

Spilling Coffee and other Jitters

It's interesting the effects sleep deprivation can have on a person. There's the occasional head bob and heavy eyelids. Or, as my granddad used to tell me whenever he got sleepy on the road he would put his hand on the roof of the car. That way, if he ever fell asleep his hand would smack him on the head and he would wake up before finding himself upside down in a ditch. Whatever works. Some people reach a state of delirium when they are tired. I remember a time working at a restaurant New Year's Day, when a friend of mine made coffee in the tea urns and I gave myself a hundred dollar tip. Oops. I'm amazed when I think of how little sleep fueled my adolescent rampage through academics and attempted money making. Only a few years later it seems I am more and more tired and running amok less.
However, as of recent, my life has spiraled into twirling cone of fury and to do lists. Eating while driving proves both hazardous and frustrating when a quickly prepared breakfast crumbles, leaving picked out clothes sprinkled. Beginning the day frazzled is not ideal. Running from one activity to another regardless of the event will eventually work down one's defenses. Such is the story of me this weekend. After being up late with annoying teenagers (where do they get their energy, again?), I sought after the sweetest nectar life has to offer me at this point in my mostly boring existence: Coffee. I entered an intricately decorated hospitality room with one cart in my line of vision. It possessed a variety of Styrofoam coffee cups and a magnificent cappuccino machine. Taking a deep breath as I anticipated the first sip, I filled my cup to the brim. French vanilla wafted from the cup in a swirl of sweet steam. I pulled the cup away, excited I was finally able to soothe my noncommittal addiction, when all of a sudden my hands were not following my directions. The precious cup tilted and then fell to the table. My morning luxury flowed over the cart saturating everything in sight with the aroma of coffee beans and french vanilla. Embarrassed by my clumsiness, I quickly apologized and went for the saving grace of paper towels. As others helped correct my blunder, I worked frantically to remove myself from such a wrongly gone expedition. When the sticky brown liquid was cleaned, I once again filled my cup with coffee. Very carefully this time, I took the cup with me in yet another attempt to quench my morning thirst. I walked and joined my group to hear a speaker. While standing and relieved to be with a cup in my hand- my happy place, I enjoyed life. Although I relish the taste and abilities of coffee, unfortunately my tongue cannot handle sudden bursts of hotness. I wait until it is cooled before venturing in. This proved detrimental in my tries of the morning. Without warning, my hands failed me once again. That darling of a cup filled so full with my favorite enjoyment, plummeted to the ground in one slow motion event. My only reaction was to drop my jaw and sigh. This time I was angry. 2 cups of the magic brew wasted! And still, an hour later I had not even tasted any! Too embarrassed to retreat to the hospitality room, I sent someone in my place. And when they returned with another hot cup of coffee, I sat down to drink it.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why we need more sleep.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Hot Tea to the Rescue

As I rounded the corner of my very dark and puddily parking lot, I noticed a car sitting in front of the mail boxes. The street lamp reflected off of the inside displaying a quite silver topped woman. And, although I could not hear her, she appeared to sneeze so hard she thrust forward and could have doubled as a rear ended car wreck victim. Sigh. How tired she must be getting home this time of night. Not to mention, a sneeze like that would wear you out. I parked the jeep and carried my very tired self to the door where I proceeded to prove my tiredness by turning the key the other way, thus locking my door. For about thirty seconds I couldn't understand why in the world my door wouldn't open! Such as my day.  Now as I sit with my favorite coffee cup full of chamomile tea, my inhaler and other things that keep me alive in my high pollen infected state(yeah I'm a total nerd), I realize how much I wish the day were longer.  Cold eggs in the morning in an attempt at protein for breakfast, a meeting gone long and popcorn for lunch, and finally - crackers in bed for a supper suffice. Sitting in bed proves to be the only personal time of my day, where ironically it should be filled with sleep. The morning haunts  me just hours away; however, I choose to hug my coffee cup and read stories filled with fantasies to please my imagination and pull me away from any sense of normalcy. Then I'm off to sleep after a page and half when my eyes are too heavy to lift open. Ready to start the day over again tomorrow, living the dream. 

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Top 5 Marty and Lauren

5. "I always knew ACU would turn you into a slut. Call me!" 
4. "I was going to say how much I have missed you, but regretfully I have changed my position." 
3. "Would a christmas card from David Hasslehoff smooth things out between us?" 
2. "So, I called you today... and decided that your message was false advertising." 
1. "You deserve it if you're going to show off your feminine berries to boys." 

"Joke Whore!"   "Traitorous Jerk!" "Insecure Freak!" "Happy Birthday, Scraper Loser." 



You are my complete friend. 

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

20 questions

A few things I've been asked in recent: 

Ms. Waggoner, can I go to the bathroom? 
Ms. Waggoner, my arm hurts when I move it like this. 
Ms. Waggoner, do you have a pencil?
Ms. Waggoner, can I go to the bathroom? 
Ms. Waggoner, can I go wash the marker off my face? Tressa did it. 
Ms. Waggoner, my tooth is coming out. 
Ms. Waggoner, did they have sonic 100 years ago?
Ms. Waggoner, do I have to write in sentences?
Ms. Waggoner, my head is bleeding a little bit. 
Ms. Waggoner, can I put that they flew with wings? 
Ms. Waggoner, why did you change the desks? 
Ms. Waggoner, is this for a grade?
Ms. Waggoner, what time is lunch?
Ms. Waggoner, do we need our jackets?

Ms. Waggoner? Ms. Waggoner? Ms. Waggoner!!! 


Sometimes, I hate my name... And love it all the same.  

Friday, January 9, 2009

Ah.. kids.

We've been working on a unit in school about influential people. I asked the kids to study a certain list and then choose one they are interested in. I then asked them to pretend their person was still alive. They were to think of different things they would like to say or ask that person. To get them started, we had just finished an interested discussion over Helen Keller. So, I probed them by asking, "What kinds of things would you like to ask Helen Keller?"

The first blurted out question came from an innocent girl. "What's her favorite color?"

Priceless.

Thursday, January 8, 2009

Storms

Today the air was crisp and sunny. Inside, I wished it would be stormy. I longed for wind and rain... danger that would make my heart pound. Darkness. I miss the storms of the panhandle. I loved watching a beautiful day like today begin to develop. First, small puffy clouds would float about bathing in the sun. Soon they would clump together, exploding into enormous towers of cotton. I could spend an entire afternoon watching the cells build. Living somewhere flat allowed one to view this process from miles away. Slowly, the towers would begin to darken and join each other. Thunder would roll from a distance like giants jumping around in excitement. The wind would blow softly, waiting for it to happen. Eventually, the storms would arrive and the sky would darken. Rain would pour and wind would howl. I loved when these storms were capable of producing tornadoes. Maybe it was the thrill of the hunt, I'm not sure. I loved being there-- immersed in such power. I am in awe of these storms. Terrified of them. Storms like these scream and yell causing destruction. The kind that are so intriguing and threatening, only an insane person would be watching.

Waiting.

When the rain stops, and the wind is gone, the birds start to fly, the squirrels crawl out of their shelters... the sun comes back out. The grass gets greener. And in the background lies my favorite part. I love the back of the storm. The dark, deep blue that broods in the distance. The worst is over... and everything glows as the sun shines in comparison. I think, life is much this way. My excitement for life storms dims as I endure the destruction. But in the end, I guess I only have to wait for the sun.

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Vampires

Well, it seems that I took up blogging and then quite suddenly abrupted. Oh well.

I, like many other suckered readers, obsessively read the Twilight series. I will agree that it is a very good read. I felt like the characters were my friends, that my desire in life was to become a vampire, and finally-- that I too was in love with Edward. My my, am I now 15? I had similar problems with the show "Friends"... still to this day I play a season in the background when I'm feeling lonely. I have all 10 seasons.. and have seen them so much that I don't need to view the screen to know what their faces look like. They ARE my friends. :)

Anyway, all of this vampire nonsense got me thinking. I simply MUST be part vampire. Or maybe, another theory could be that teachers are part vampire. If you think about it, we do have superhuman skill when it comes to certain things. I am keenly aware of exactly who is whispering in the corner before I ever look up. Without a glance, I can calmly but quite scarily remind them to keep their voice down. It is quite humorous to catch them when they feel they are very good at getting away with things. I also can move as fast as needed in order to snatch up a note or break up a fight on the playground. And lastly, how easy is it to scare these little munchkins into thinking I'M intimidating? Although, if I'm thinking into fantasy, I suppose I wish I could manifest into a teacher at Hogwarts. How exciting would that be? I could turn them all into pencils! I guess, as exhausted as I am at the end of every day, I can only hope to be something of the super natural- to survive and triumph over 8 year olds.