notes to self, thursday-morning style

8:37 a.m.

* you are running a little late this morning;
* there's all sort of snow and shit on your car (side note: how did you not anticipate this? in January? in Michigan?), and you quickly realize that you have chosen very impractical shoes to wear;
* you cannot go back inside to change into your attractive heeled boots, seeing as how you have left your house keys with the B, who is sleeping with the dog in your bed;
* if you ring the bell, you will wake up the dog, who will say WOOF WOOF WOOF and the B may not even stir and then you'll just have pissed off your downstairs neighbor and still be wearing impractical shoes that you don't even like that much;
* also, your pants are falling down (yay!, in a way), but you have forgotten to wear a belt;
* also, you do not own a black belt, you think they're sort of ugly, and the only black belt you ever had was part of your Grizzlebee's uniform, and remember how you gave that to Goodwill in August, thinking, Wow, I guess I'll never need a black belt again! and then you thought, Unless I'm getting attacked by ninjas and shit! and then you laughed out loud, all to yourself;
* okay, seriously, hurry up and clean off the car, you're going to be late and you have many photocopies to make before ten;
* okay, you grabbed for the windshield wiper and it came off in your hand, that's less than helpful;
* okay, now the clippy thing that attaches it to the arm came off too and you've dropped it in the snow;
* okay, yes, make sure that you shout GODDAMN IT! and pound your snowbrush against the windshield;
*oh my God, that man heard you, and now he's telling you to calm down and that today's going to be a good day;
* oh fuck it all, just jam it back on somehow and remember on your commute that every time you use the wipers, there is an excellent chance that one will fly off into oncoming traffic;
*if that happens, just keep driving.

10:00 a.m.

* don't forget to give students the in-class writing prompt today.

10:10 a.m.

* OH MY GOD HOW LONG HAS YOUR FLY BEEN DOWN AND DID ANY OF THEM NOTICE? OR WERE THEY JUST GIVING YOU THOSE BEMUSED LOOKS BECAUSE YOU RELATED THE WINDSHIELD-WIPER-BENEVOLENT-HOMELESS-GUY STORY???

10:11 a.m.

* pretend that you need to get a drink of water;
* duck into the bathroom and see if you fixed that fly issue;
* while you're at it, see if you can't use a binder clip to somehow fold over some of this fabric to serve as a impromptu tailor job, like you did the whole last month you worked at the New York Grizzlebee's because the snap on your work pants broke but you didn't feel like buying a new pair because you were leaving soon to go to Minnesota;
* yes, that will do it.

10:15 a.m.

* no, no it will not;
* let's just keep lecturing, and maybe not pretend that you know why binder clips are falling from your hips.