Normally, I hate school cancellations on Friday during a rehearsal run, because the ballgame always gets rescheduled for a Wednesday night: the *only* night of the week I can get all my cast members together for a company rehearsal of any kind. I have so many athletes in the three winter sports (men’s/women’s basketball, men’s/women’s powerlifting, and wrestling), it’s near impossible to assemble all 25 kids in one place for two hours. It’s madness.

But today, I was grateful and relieved to get the cancellation text. My lungs feel like two enormous slabs of mercury-infected salmon, putrefying in my rib cage. Every dry, hacking cough is a new experience in searing, white-hot, exquisite pain. Honestly, I didn’t know how I was going to get through five rehearsals and a lecture class today, as the only thing that makes the coughing worse is talking and singing. A long weekend of recuperation should do the trick, however.

And the Thriller sounds just as bad as I do, if not marginally worse. Between the two of us, I think we’re scaring the dog, and everyone knows that’s pretty easy to do in the first place. Haha

This about puts the kaibosh on seeing any grandchildren or sister Mavis this weekend, too. My life is a hash. Good night, nurse.

Fink out (back to the bed)

Me? I don’t like ’em. Not one little bit. Oh, now the kids — the kids love those extra two hours of sleep.

Scenario #1: Their parents wake them and say, “You’ve had a two-hour delay; time to get up now,” and they go, “Wow! I just got two more hours of sleep! Bonus!”

Scenario #2: Their phone buzzes with the notification from the school district that there’s a two-hour delay. They quietly whisper Yes! — then promptly go back to sleep.

As you might guess, neither of those dreams come true in this house. Once I’m up at 4:30, I’m up for the day. None of this going-back-to-bed nonsense. Therefore, two-hour delays need to either 1) not happen, or 2) turn into cancellations so I can stay in my jammies and work from home. (At least I get to have a leisurely breakfast and an extra coffee. I’ll go do that now. BRB.)

I do understand why they always start with delays. Really, I get it. It is easier to see “black ice” in the daylight, and many of the back roads in the rural community where I teach go unsalted and unplowed until the last minute. The school whiners always surface on days like this, too:

“In my day, we went to school no matter how bad the roads were!”
“What’s up with those sissies? It’s just -20 outside. Get to school and go into the building and get warm.”
“Why are they always delaying schools? Don’t those bus drivers know how to drive?”

I’ve heard them all (and more), trust me. It’s not really about any of those issues, in my opinion. It’s more about living in an extremely litigious society, where officials accused of disregarding anybody’s safety — that of students or staff — can face a tremendously difficult legal battle if something unfortunate should happen. That, and hello: just err on the side of caution where kids are concerned. Call us sissies; I care not. Getting to school by 7:20 a.m. is important, I know. Getting there no matter the cost, especially when there are now record numbers of student drivers, is not earth-shatteringly crucial. Thus saith the Fink this day.

But delays? As a former principal of mine used to say: “Not a fan.”

Not a fan.

YAY

Wheee! And away we go: this evening marks the first night of my 14th Dinner Theatre rehearsal schedule at SCHS.

Yesterday, I read a random blog post somewhere about an editor (a job I think I would like) who dreaded going in to work. She said that when everyone at the office was saying “TGIF!”, she would mutter to herself, “I can’t believe I have to be back here in a short 48 hours.” One lonely Friday afternoon, she broke down in tears in her car. Long story short, she ended up giving up her editing career — to be come a teacher. Now she feels fulfilled, challenged and appreciated.

Question: Have you ever felt that way? I’m talking about the “I can’t believe I have to be back here in 48 hours” feeling. I rarely have it. The only exception is during my two major rehearsal runs per year, each of which is about 2.5 months long. During this time, my week consists (generally, with some variation) of getting up at 4:30, getting my lunch and dinner together, teaching till 2:30, choreographing, arranging and rehearsing small groups until 6:30, and rehearsing with a larger group until 8:30. Home by 9:15, chat briefly with the Thriller, check mails and Facebook, fall into the bed. Next day, same thing. Weekends are usually a mixture of recovering from the week past, and preparing/re-energizing for the week ahead. I miss my grandsons and spending time with family and friends.

I’ve done this for a couple decades now, so it really does seem like routine. And some days are better (less busy) than others, so that provides some much-needed downtime. (My students are so involved in sports, jobs and other commitments, we can’t rehearse as a full cast every night because of games, matches and teams having to share one gymnasium at a small school, so it’s good to have the smaller nightly rehearsals throughout the week.) Then there are the times when I can escape to have dinner with Kay or Stoney before rehearsals begin. That’s always a welcome break from the routine. But for the most part, when mid-January hits, I say goodbye to going home at quittin’ time, and it’s hard to get used to at first. Some years, it’s hard to get used to, period.

Still, as the Thriller has said on several occasions when I complain: I “can’t not do this.” Yep, the double negative totally works in this instance. The two annual shows are so much a part of my life (and, truthfully, the crux of recruitment for my program), it’s very difficult to imagine not doing them.

So, what is it about your job that you both love and hate? As always, I covet your articulate and compendious reflections. Pensioners, please join in; we’ll take your responses in “memory” form.

Have a finktastic week, fiends. I’ll check in with you soon.

I’m checking things off the list, I’m checking things off the list…I’m a list warrior, I’m tellin’ ya.

Actually, I’m not checking them off the list quite fast enough, but I’ve gotten through quite a bit this weekend. Still have to do some editing, score study and DT stuff. It’s progress, regardless.

In other news: I experienced an epiphany this weekend about letting stuff go. It was a good lesson. Have you ever felt that you’d been wronged, hurt or misunderstood, but you fought the temptation to set the record straight because this time, it just wasn’t about you? A victory to be sure, especially for someone like me, who always wants to be certain there is no misunderstanding. My mother used to accuse me of arguing my opinion to the point of exasperation (her exasperation, most often). She was right, and there’s still a lot of that hanging about, but here we are, at the tender age of 54, learning new lessons in self control.

Fist pull, high five, chest bump, go me. Besides, 2014 is the Year of Letting Go of Things. It’s been let go. *bing*

Are you having a good Sunday morning (or afternoon or evening)? I check Facebook and see lots of stuff going on, but I hope a big part of that is relaxing. Relaxing is on my list today, too — it’s set for 7:08 p.m. Yes!

Woo, 59 of these little RNF posts, and a ton more in the basic “Random Neuron Firings” category. Why do I number some, but not others? Quien sabe. I’m mental.

For those who might not know, my RNFs are comprised basically of general, off-the-top-of-my-head observations. You know, kind of like the posts I write every day and fail to assign a number to…

Anyway. Set, go.

Random Neuron Firings

1. Wow, such anger. What a hothead. Is this guy who you want for the leader of the free world? One poorly-timed joke by a visiting Beijing diplomat, and *kABLam* — there goes China.
2. Mavis’s surgery went well. I’m glad she’s home, resting. I spoke with her on the phone last night, and she sounds a bit better.
3. Latest addition to the Dinner Theatre song list: “Me Ol’ Bamboo” from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Remember that movie? Awesome. I would have liked to see the Broadway show, but it didn’t last long.
4. Speaking of old stuff…remember My Friend Flicka? Sure you do, fellow crusty ones. My grandpa Johnson, whose parents were from Sweden, told me one day as it came on the TV at his house, “You know, flicka means ‘girl’ in Swedish.” I have never forgotten that fact — or that day, back in what — 1965-66, when it was in reruns? Isn’t it funny how seemingly small memories stick with you in a big way?
5. Remy had a good day with the Thriller while I was at school yesterday. They bonded, played, took a ride in the car to the vet (the doc says he’s 100% healthy, with a beautiful coat and markings, and likely around two years old), and spent some time talking to one another. While Remy stayed pretty close to Mommy for the evening, I was told that he went downstairs to the office earlier in the day, without having to be coaxed down with treats or taken on the leash. Good boy, Remington!
6. Just found out last night that Boardwalk Empire is in its last season. Whaaa? Mad Men is on the way out, too. Breaking Bad (the best show in the history of TV drama, ever, hands down) is already gone. Sheesh. Watch — next it’ll be Downton Abbey, Ray Donovan, The Newsroom, Homeland, Dracula…all my favorites. Cripes, what’s next? 60 Minutes?
7. It’s hilarious to watch Remy play with his Skineez toy. He has the reindeer. I wasn’t sure he’d play with it at all, but it’s his favorite. Nasty looking things, but apparently, dogs love them because they resemble rodents. Niiiiiiice.
8. I hate the first day back to school after a long vacation, and this vacation was extra-long. Yesterday wasn’t too bad, though. I think everyone might have been more “OK” with going back than they let on. Still, I’d be lying if I said I’m not thrilled when quittin’ time rolls around.

And that is all for this morning, my fiends. Hey, it’s Finkday — the weekend’s almost here! I hope I can get some major visiting in over the next 48 hours (Mavis, Kay, the As, then the Js). Then it’s off to the Dinner Theatre rehearsal schedule. Yippy! Here’s hoping that you have some fun plans for the weekend, too.

FO