Greetings from the kitchen at 12:30 in the morning. As R and I continue to explore the glories of partial unemployment, we find ourselves going to bed later every night and waking up later every morning, with the result that I don't even start to feel like it's bedtime until after midnight. This hasn't happened to me in a while, not since before I stopped going to classes and became A Grownup. Of sorts. It also doesn't help that I never walk anymore (the buses here are so delectably cheap compared to Juneau's!), I haven't been jogging since mid-December, I'm too poor for yoga classes... we don't even have a second floor for me to climb up to! In short, I'm living a life of sloth in every way imagineable. Which is kind of luxuriously lovely, but also tends to cause undue stress on my bank account and arteries, so I'll due my best to remedy that situation in the upcoming weeks.
I've been working for almost two weeks at my afternoon preschool job, and I'm loving it. Love preschoolers, love my class - sixteen 4-5 year olds, though usually only around 10 of them are left by the time I work with them in the afternoon. Sometimes I get pangs of guilt about working at a nice expensive preschool instead of somewhere more socially responsible, with kids who need my help much more than these small rich white ones. But if I'm going to be totally clueless and gain experience anywhere, it might as well be here, with a small, close-knit staff, and parents who read their kids stories at night and know the names of all their kids' classmates. Noelle, the UT student I work with in the afternoons, is fabulous, and it's amazing how your workday flies by when you roll into the office at 2:30 and leave by 6:00. Really the only downfall is that I have to pass by the local natural foods co-op in order to get from the bus stop to work or vice versa, which makes it tragically easy to stop in and squander my precious paycheck on tasty organic groceries five days a week. All I have to spend is $20-$25 a day, and oops! There goes this week's salary. Have I mentioned I REALLY need to find morning work?
I've also worked two scout sleepovers at the Children's Museum, and two mornings babysitting at a church nursery in the suburbs. I'm not quite sick of kids yet, but I don't expect it'll be much longer now. I'm getting really good at saying "Use your walking feet," "Put your bottoms on the floor," and "Use your words to tell Emmett how you feel when he grabs that toy from you."
Peter and Anna Maria and baby Alexandra were in town for Folk Alliance last week... we got to see them and sing with them a bit, which was great fun. R and Alexa and I also spent a late night in the Hilton to see some of the Folk Alliance showcases, which was possibly the weirdest thing I've ever found myself in the middle of. (J&B, I still have to tell you all about it... oh man. Oh man. Imagine the strangest FRFF you've ever been to divided into all the bedrooms on 15 floors of the downtown Hilton, and you've got a good start...)
Apart from that, nothing much is new. R and I fill most of our waking hours scouting for jobs and cheap furnishings. We seem to maybe have developed another slight flea problem (must be from our tag sale couch and/or loveseat and/or box spring, because there's literally nothing else in this house that COULD be contaminated with fleas, even if it wanted to be), but at least these aren't insane bionic microscopic fleas that give R hundreds of poison-ivy-like blisters. These suckers seem to be normal flea size and have the added perks of never biting me, and only giving R itchy hives that disappear in a couple of hours. We've been trying to nip that problem in the bud by dustbustering regularly and sprinkling Borax everywhere. Hopefully that'll do the trick, since we're most definitely too poor to follow any other course of action. We spent the $70 that could have gone to flea treatment on a month of Intro to Swing Dance classes, which maybe aren't as rewarding as a pest-free home, but are definitely far more fun. Today was our third class, and we can awkwardly and amateurly do all sorts of nifty spins, but only if we mutter things like "Rock step, triple step, triple step, step back, pull in, wrap her in, send her out, Barbie arm, left foot, triple step..." under our breath.
Okay, it may finally be bedtime. My belly is full of delicious rice and raw fish... R and I went out for Alexa's birthday this evening with Alexa and some singing friends, resulting in perhaps the loudest "Happy Birthday" the restaurant had ever been subjected to (if you want a "Happy Birthday" that will be heard for miles around, invite a bunch of Sacred Harp singers to your party). We ordered a Sushi Boat, which is something like 10 different kinds of sushi and sashimi that get plunked down in the middle of your table in, literally, a giant wooden boat. With a sail and everything. It was delightfully tacky. It's very surreal that in 2? 3? more weeks, all of us but one will be eating potluck lunch at WMSHC, and I'll get to see lots more of you to boot. Hooray! Okay, on that happy note, I'm leaving for real. Sweet dreams, everyone. (I guess the technical term would be "Sweet dreams, Y'ALL." Said in my best stodgy New England accent, for maximum comic effect.)