While I collect my thoughts and finishing working on my new and improved site design, I thought I'd share a fun little story that happened last Friday in class. Keep in mind, these are high school juniors. Student 1: Miss, you look like a kid today. Me: I do? Student 2: (shaking head) Your hair. Me: Oh yeah? So you think I can pass for 17? Student 2: (in deep thought) Hmmm, no, but I think you could pass for 36. Student 1: Yeah, 36. Me: 36? I'm not even 36 yet? Student 2: (eyes wide open) You're not? What about 26? Is that good?

My life seems to be finally circling back toward normalcy. I was a bit unprepared for the process of getting my balance back. I finished the last of my extra work Monday. By Thursday I was knocked out with a cold, complete with a low-grade fever and overwhelming need for extra sleep. In fact, my dear husband had to entertain himself with the t.v. and internet for the last three nights while I snored in between hacking coughs on the couch. I'm finally starting to feel better, thank you. But I think I will be firmly planted on the couch again tomorrow. At least I'll have football to watch instead of PBS documentaries.

I had a haunting conversation with Nadia Friday afternoon about a very difficult decision I had to make this week. I had to quit my part-time job. Since last spring, I've been writing internet marketing materials. This work paid for my new computer and my summer travel, but it also sapped much of my free time. That's not quite true. It sapped ALL of my free time. It was a painful decision for me. Do you know how hard it was for me to admit that I couldn't do it all? I couldn't work from 7:00 to 3:30 in the classroom, plan lessons, score papers and give feedback, keep my laundry clean, wash the dishes, cook dinner, talk to my family and friends, blog, work on my own writing projects, spend time with my husband, enjoy the breezes outside, and keep up a frantic writing pace for someone else. I couldn't do it. Something had to give, and I feared it would be my sanity or my ever-growing waistline. So I called Nadia and poured out my heart, complete with my burning frustr