Gelato, Get In My Belly!

I made it through the week.  Every day felt like Monday, and there was a lot of crying (which is pretty abnormal for me...unless someone is dying in a movie, then I'm weeping), but I made it.  And to celebrate, I stopped by the grocery store last night on my way home and picked up a pint of Talenti Mediterranean Mint gelato.  In other words, I purchased 800 calories of better-than-ice-cream and then ate it, along with a few pizza slices, in front of my Netflix-connected television.

In 2008, I participated in a teacher development program called SMILE through Tulane University.  We took multiple weeks of math and science related classes at the University, and then we went on a couple of field trips throughout the year.  While the classes were fairly engaging and informative (though poorly differentiated), the field trips were mostly a waste of time.  I only went to the first one, at the end of the first quarter, and I spent all of my down time grading quarterlies.  I graded in Subway.  I graded in my hotel room.  I graded on the bus.  I spent most of the remainder of my non-grading time wishing I was grading tests or relaxing at home instead of walking around a large science complex on the Northshore that was way too complicated to have anything to do with my students.  Keep in mind, I also had the added stress of being the one-eyed king of the classroom (read: first year of teaching), and of having recently suffered a week-long evacuation for Hurricane Gustav (which I also spent grading and wishing I was home).

A few months later, there was a second field trip for the program.  I begrudgingly made plans to go and procured a substitute for the occasion, but I ended up opting out for health reasons.  Well, I thought they were health reasons.  I mean, I felt like I was coming down with something.  But the morning of, I awoke feeling as good as new, and instead, passed the entire day drinking soda, devouring delivery pizza, and finishing off a half-gallon of ice cream and the entire first two seasons of Chuck on DVD.  My mom called at one point to see how I was doing, and I replied excitedly, "Why did no one tell me playing hooky was so much fun?"

Forget fried chicken.  Pizza, ice cream, and TV are my soul food.  They're better than uppers: inexpensive, relatively non-habit forming, and clear endorphin triggers (because you can't help but exercise the next day when you realize you've just consumed an entire day's calories in thirty minutes on the couch).

Had someone asked me to go do something fun last night, I probably would've jumped on the invitation instantaneously.  But being home afforded me the quiet opportunity to simply be after a week of go go go.  It also gave me the opportunity to finally spend time with my roommate, who I haven't seen in like a week, thanks to weird hours on her part and early nights on mine. (We talked about boys, duh.)

Our principal is always getting up in front of the school at morning meeting and telling us we should be thinking about what we're grateful for.  This morning, I awoke (in my own room again!) grateful for a home, grateful for friends, and most decidely, grateful for the weekend.