Terminal lesson

We are 7 class days into the school year, and I am already going out of my mind.

Its nice to have a classroom of just normal kids.  Ones that might give you a hard time when you assign something, but will at least fucking DO IT every now and then, and don’t show up high with a switchblade (true story from last year).  I almost don’t know what to do.  They’re so quiet at times that I want to grab them by the shoulders and scream into their faces "BE LOUD!  HAVE FUN! ENGAGE!"

But that would never do, now would it.

I have a student with cystic fibrosis.  I’ve never had a student with a terminal disease before.  I’ve had some sick kids, and I’ve had students get badly hurt, and one awful summer where a previous student was killed by another one, but I’ve never had a kid that I looked at every single day and knew, just knew, that he wouldn’t live much longer past the age I’m at now… and if he does, his quality of life will be incredibly poor.

I don’t have really all that much to say.  My week of 16 hour days has wiped me out pretty well.  Duck game and paper grading tomorrow.

Aryn is coming into town in the morning to attend the game and talk about "us," or whatever there is left of us.  With any luck, by the end of this weekend, something will be decided.  Either we will proceed with the divorce, or we will begin in earnest to rebuild our relationship.

I’m keeping my wager to myself for now.