My Troubles Melt Like Lemon Drops

I had a bit of a rough day at work. High school teaching is no joke. Well it's kind of a joke, but not a funny one when you are the brunt of it.

But then I came home and made dinner and watched my shows and now my troubles melt like lemon drops. Because as hard as it is at Christmas time to impart the urgency of learning how to read and write properly to teenagers, at least I don't. . . . .

. . .have the CIA, a major drug cartel and two Oakland gangs after me. Neither is the love of my life an arms dealer. The love of my life drove our second grader and two of her friends to Bouncetown this afternoon with the Girl Scout troop. He's pretty much the best dad ever. In other words, my life in no way resembles a Shakespearean tragedy. I like that about my life. Also, my parents weren't criminal gangsters. Have I thanked them for that recently?

. . .need to watch out for undead cannibals. On foggy days as I stand at my classroom door, I see my students coming towards me out of the mist. The worst they ever act is grumpy. They may drag their feet some, especially in the morning, but they never eat my dog or gut my horse or chew on my arm. And God bless them for it.

. . .work in a basement. When I asked politely for a room with windows, my administration arranged for me to have it. Overhead lighting causes me to have soul shattering headaches. I don't get those often anymore now that I am in a room with windows. If I had to work one more year in a room with no windows, I would wish for someone to chew on my arm and just put me out of my misery already. Boy am I glad I can see the sky whenever I want to.

I forgot to feel grateful for the absence of murder, mayhem and florescent lighting today. Almost forgot, that is. Thanks, television. I feel better already.