Everything comes at a price. I guess the price for my having been a bit busy this year is that I have not written as much as I'd like. Even now, I've a number of competing claims on this time.
According to Policeman Yakov (I still really hate the first name culture between youth and adults), a person is an alcoholic if he needs to drink just once a week. By that definition, I'm an addict to all sorts of things. The one that just came up again though was Microsoft's Solitaire Collection.
“Just the daily challenges,” I say, and reinstall, but then I do them as soon as it passes midnight. And then when I'm on another call, or watching a video (that might also be an addiction), I open up Spider or FreeCell in the “background. ” And it's not like most of the videos I watch are needed. Some are the guidance for my business, but others are just a little more Jordan (Peterson), or even worse, some Netflix drivel.
I tell you I really don't need that many breaks.
So now I think about them and I'm opening my WhatsApp to invite them again for Shabbat, this time with enough time for them to do something about it. I should probably find and plug in my phone.
So I completed this school year. It has been interesting. The thing is I love my students (the ones I don't want to kill anyway), and they love me (the ones who actually show up, mostly anyway). The other thing is I don't get to teach. Yesterday, my last chance to be with them, the school decides it's better to be with Policeman Yakov. I was supposed to have a double with my ninth graders, and it just wasn't. I'm there to teach, not to get a double dose of Policeman Yakov talking about the evils of alcohol, especially as it hasn't been that long since we viewed the discussion between Theo von Clips and Dr. Peterson on alcohol. Some of my students and I were actually laughing at the content yesterday.
So as we're wrapping up the year, I'll come to some of the highlights. I lost my dad, and I'm still stuck in the conversation of “Did I ever have him?” Particularly bothersome is his decision to be burned. It still burns me. I couldn't resist the pun. He probably would have thought the pun was stupid (if he thought about it at all), which it is, but it amuses me.
I said to myself last August, as I was coming home that I'd say yes to the adventures that present themselves, ended up meeting Yehuda Rothner, and substituted for two teachers along the way, teaching seventh through 12th grade (part time). I don't know how the full-timers do it.
I seem to have lost Dahlia, but I don't much care. She can be all the Scorpio she wants. I spent enough time walking on egg shells for my parents, wife, kids, everyone else, that I don't need to add her to the mix.
My kids are a year older, though I'm not sure as much smarter as they could be. On the other hand, for all the nothing I hear from Immanuel about what he learned, his teachers report hem to be a hard worker who moves and inspires them.
And with that, my alarm rings, and I'm off to pray.