I love the 90's.

When you're having a rough week, the best thing to do is put on a 90's playlist.

Sometimes you have to confiscate two cell phones from kids who are gaming during an Easter Chapel.

Other times you will try not to laugh when a student tells you that his team has "proven" they deserve to be in the gym.

There might be an occasion when a student kicks a soccer ball at a group of defenseless third graders, and you feel like kicking the ball in his face.

You will continually have to kick kids out of the gym who are "doing a project" for a class, "in study hall", or simply lost.

Sometimes you will tell the same kid not to kick volleyballs 100 times in the same week.

There will be numerous opportunities to tell kids to go check the lost and found for whatever irrelevant object they have left in the gym.

Then the first/second graders come to class and give you hugs as soon as they see you, and you feel a little better.

You go to Rokeby for dinner with your best friends and fiance as many times as you can fit in the schedule, and you have mashed potatoes to ease the pain.

Then you put on an episode of Dawson's Creek and are reminded of the little things in life.

"I don't wanna wait for our lives to be over..."

Two of my least favorite things.

Thursday morning was destined to be a good day, but the universe had bigger plans for me. 

We had basketball practice at 6:50 AM because of numerous schedule conflicts that WS loves. I was walking to the gym the long way because the school was still locked, and I couldn't cut through. As I was walking up the ramp, I felt a little mist hit me. I kept walking ahead before I turned to look up to see if it was a water pipe or what. Yep, there was monkey sitting in a tree up above, and it definitely just peed on me. What a fabulous way to start the day--getting peed on by a monkey.

There was really no chance for recovery for two reasons. I had a busy morning before I was scheduled to leave for the 3rd and 4th grade RE Retreat. Also, I had done my hair in preparation for dressing like the White Witch of Narnia for the retreat. I looked at is a opportunity for my hair to get some extra vitamins and minerals.

That evening at dinner came the second unfortunate event of the day. I was still in my white witch outfit, and someone thought that I needed glitter in my hair. Any person who knows me would know that was a bad idea. I dislike glitter for several reasons. The major reason that it is like herpes, and it really never goes away.

There I was covered in glitter and fearing the future that was ahead of me. Glitter on my clothes, in my backpack, in my bed, and basically all over my house. Here I am two days later still feeling like I have been violated with glitter. I go out in public and fear that people might spot some glitter still in my hair or on my clothes and mistake me for the sort of person that intentionally uses glitter.

If you think you had a bad Thursday, at least you weren't peed on and glittered. A new form of torture.