Nothing random about today’s neuron firings.

I found out yesterday morning that one of my former students — she posted here at RtB once or twice as “A Nonny Mouse” (here and here) — passed away. She was very close to a young colleague, who is struggling right now, as are many close friends this girl had throughout high school.

She was a poet, a musician, a thinker, a writer, a cynic. So incredibly wise — and sad — for her 20 short years on earth.

I have decided to redouble my efforts to recognize and act on the smallest sign from any teenager who might be considering suicide. I’m sad that it took something like this to shake me awake to this issue, but I have smelled the coffee. All of us who spend our days with 12-18-year-olds need to be more vigilant.

May the choir of Angels greet you,
and like Lazarus, who once was a poor man,
may you have eternal rest. — In Paradisum, The Gregorian Missal

Rest now, Jessica.

While the Thriller and I are still hacking and wheezing and feeling generally miserable, at least we don’t have to have surgery this week.

Rousseau goes in on Friday morning to have some cysts removed. He’s had them forever, and they never bothered him until we found yesterday (when I went to pet him and drew back a bloody hand) that one had ruptured and abscessed. It was buried under his double coat of fur, and we didn’t see it. It’s located on the side of his neck, which means that he can reach it with his hind leg to scratch it. So after he got back from the vet (she shaved the area around the abscess), I cut up an old turtleneck, and he’s now sporting a lovely dickie that covers the wound. All levity aside, we thought the worst yesterday. He refused food and water, and was moving slower than ever for his 12 years. (Although if you have pain, you don’t usually want to eat — not surprising.)

Thus ends my all-too-brief flirtation with anything resembling a spring break. I myself am hauling it back to the vet for humans after school today, and the Thriller’s on deck for Thursday. I’ve never once in my career taken all my allotted sick days, but it may happen this year. Unbelievable. I: the girl who never gets sick.

Guess it’s my turn. Ugh, annus horribilis.

FO

Barely. Welcome to the plague, round 2…

How was your holiday weekend? The Thriller and I got away for a quiet weekend, but our peace was troubled by increasing sickness for both of us. What’s going on here? Then we wake up to find our dear Rousseau with no appetite, and another growth on his neck. I hope it’s not serious. I’ll keep you posted.

Sorry for the long absence — I think this sets the record.

Monday, Monday…ugh. 

Had a great post ready to go — some truly interesting RNFs — but the internet connection died until just a few minutes ago. That’s OK; it’ll keep for another day, if you can stand the wait.

Hey, it’s Finkday today — if you’re me. Yippity!

Two more days of school, that is. I can get behind that, fiends.

What about you? Are there only two more days of work for you as well? Do they still work on Good Friday in the private sector? And don’t worry, business/retail/service industry pals, I don’t get a “spring break.” Well actually, it’s kind of a mini spring break (Thursday – Monday). I’ll take five days.

But the main thing is: it’s spring! I’m starting — starting — to get into the spring mindset. And there are two more days till I can not worry about the 5 a.m. alarm for a while. I like that prospect.

What are you doing for the holiday weekend? Anything fun? For the first time in a long time, I am not having an Easter dinner at my house. Feels kind of weird, but I know my kids are all busy with other family, in-laws, and weekend projects of their own. I’ll give ’em the day off from the obligatory visit to Mom’s house — although there’s always a meal to be had by showing up.  

I hope it’s springy and beautiful where you are today.

FO