An incomplete weekend of everything

Friday night, went to a poetry contest awards ceremony that one of my students was supposed to be at. This involved a long, drawn-out trek to the South Side at 7pm, with my friend Karen, and a pre-reading stop at Popeye’s Chicken, which involved spending approximately one hour enclosed in a chicken-fume-filled room while one of the other patrons detailed his long life history to us. Once at the reading, we sat through the two-hour presentation of a certificate to every single entrant. My student was not there at all.

Saturday night, went to see a show called “an incomplete map of everything” last night, and it was boring as all get-out, so we left during the intermission, right after the 20-minute recitation of weather reports and before the 50-minute reading of pieces of biographies. (I swear to you. Art does not have to be inaccessible and boring to be edgy, people!) We were donning mittens and coats in the hallway when the arty-hippy ticket-taking woman, with the sad eyes, said they were about to begin seating again. My friend Jeff told her, very earnestly, that he’d just received a text message saying that his dog was sick.

Now, working on my unfinished midterm paper (on ADHD — but I can’t focus on it. Ha!), unfinished lesson plans, drinking a cold cup of coffee. I just talked to my friend Kate on the phone and told her that I was creating the final test to give my students tomorrow for our most recent unit, which had been something of a disaster. She asked me what we’d been doing, and I told her that we’d done some Malcolm X, some articles from the New York Times, and that “finally I just broke down and started giving them teenage stories written in the vernacular.” She found this hilarious.

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