hmmm....

so.

Didn't take long.

My darling hubby met me at Rm. 30 this morning, where, in true morning-person style, he had packed every remaining box into his car before I even managed to buy coffee. Last of all, we packed up the no-name Beta fish (who accompanied me to drop off the paperwork I wrote about yesterday), and drove off into the sunset (or, sunrise, geo-realistically speaking).

And that's that. The hubster also managed to save all my computer files (something that wound up taking more f'nagling than I'd've thought) on something I could easily bring home with me. Then, we took a moment to mull over the changes in computer memory capacity within the span of our lives thus far (I am an MS-1 Computing Engine...).

So, I'm officially moved out. Now, to move in! My new district just finished up today, so I hadn't bothered to set up a time to go over there yet. But, as the hubby pointed out, it's 10 minutes away, so I probably won't mind making round trips...

And now, I'm firmly ensconced at home with my pups, indulging in junk food and a 'Charmed' marathon (first season...with Pru in all her witch-tastic oldest sister glory). I know my seester will confirm that this is exactly what life in San Fran would be like if my Paganish household were to make for the west coast.

Mmmm....bad TV and Oreos. Sounds good, but I'm noting a disturbing early-summer trend toward couch-potato-hood. I will blame it on the scattered showers, and chilly temperature (68 degrees!).

I promise, later summer posts will be full of productive reports about the splendors of first grade, the social studies units I have planned, hiking, canoeing, and quality dog-time (I ever tell you about how I always thought there was probably some German cognate for "quality time" that was related to the "Qualitatswein mit Pradikat" that my parents would buy? Qualitatsteim mit Parents. Or something.)

sum-sum-summer time

So, we're three days into summer vacation, and I'm taking a day off from packing up fifth grade to bask in the warm, glowing, warming glow of having absolutely nothing to do.

Except get everything still in Rm. 30 out.
And move into my new room.
And plan out some whiz bang 1st grade lessons.
And drop off paperwork at the new BOE.
And clean up the house (man, we've been busy...and lazy).
And (our summer project) train the dogs to be relatively reasonable when someone comes to the door.
And laundry.
And, y'know, stuff.

But not today...except maybe the paperwork.

I've been filling me supremely fill-able time by reading (100 Years of Solitude), drinking lemonade, and watching odd movies on the WE network. I liked "Lucas." How did I miss this most excellent 80s movie? Charlie Sheen...one of the Coreys (Haim?)...Winona Ryder (in her big screen debut!)...quintessential 80s angst about fitting in, getting the girl, the haves, the have-nots...Not so much fun is "Skipped Parts" which is on right now. It is not an 80s movie...but was made in 2000 (an aughties movie?). It, too, is about the perils of a young man's coming of age, but, set in the 60s, doesn't have nearly as well developed a sense of authenticity in terms of the setting or characters.

Ah...look at that...it only takes three days for me to work up a sense of righteous indignation about daytime TV.

I'm afraid I don't recall...

I signed my contract today, making me officially a first grade teacher (yipes!) in a tiny district only ten minutes from where I live...as opposed to a fifth grade teacher in a rather large district an hour from where I live. More on that later, I am sure.

The strange thing today was getting my fingerprints taken at the local PD for the requisite background check. I don't mind the background check. The town is entrusting me with a roomfull of teeny-tiny chirdlen. I'd do a background check on me too. So the fingerprinting wasn't strange. What was strange was that as I sat in the lobby, with all the other people getting hired to work with small children, I began to feel stressed. "What if they find something in my background check?" I found myself wondering. I sat there and pondered it for a bit, "What if I've forgotten something?"

Let me just state for the record here, there is nothing that I need to worry about that will possibly turn up in my background check. Nix, nought, nothing.

But I found myself, sitting there, feeling vaguely guilty, trying to reassure myself that I'd most likely remember any sort of major crime spree.

I dunno. I blame politicians...everyone from Oliver to Scooter...who's ever cited a failure of memory when called upon to defend themselves against alligations of some serious crime. With their testimonies in mind, it seems perfectly reasonable to assume I may have done something...traded some arms, blown someone's CIA cover...and just forgotten all about it.