If We Were Having Coffee... (Vol. 13 - Mama Always Told Me Not to Look Into the Eyes of the Sun...)

If we were having coffee on this sunny, Saturday afternoon, we'd be confined to sitting inside and I'd apologize, for it really is a beautiful day.  I must stay inside, though, so I can listen for the front door.  LG&E is supposed to come today and take away my old, garage refrigerator that died back in July, but as it turned out, really didn't die; it just threw a breaker we didn't know about.  Once we made that discovery, we had already purchased a new kitchen fridge, with plans to relegate the existing kitchen fridge to the garage to replace the one that died, but didn't really die.

I've just returned from my weekly walk in the park and I'm a sweaty mess.  I'd apologize again, for I know I stink to high heavens.  I had hoped to make it home in time to take a shower before R left, but I didn't.  "We've already missed one scheduled pickup about a week and a half ago," I'd say.  "Knowing my luck, as soon as I'd get in the shower, LG&E would arrive."  I'd thank you for your understanding and would be sure to sit as far away from you as I could.

As we settled in at the kitchen table or on the sofa with our drinks, you'd hear me softly singing this snippet of a song:

Mama always told me not to look into the eyes of the sun.  But, mama, that's where the fun is...

As soon as the last word would escape my lips, I'd abruptly stop, grunt a little under my breath, and quickly apologize for the third time.  I'd tell  you that probably will not be the last time you hear that lyric come out of my mouth today. "There's been a lot of excitement here about the upcoming solar eclipse.  Even though we're not going to get totality like they are in Hopkinsville, we're slated to get something like 96% totality."  Anyway, once we started talking about it at school and teachers started making preparations for the viewing, this song lyric popped in my head and I've been singing it ever since.  "Damn ear worm."

You'd look at me in surprise and ask how long I've been back to work.  "Two and a half weeks," I'd say.  "We went back August 2.  We were one of the first districts in the area to start back.  But, instead of having just one week for fall and spring break, we'll now get two.  Going back earlier will be well worth it then. October is a fabulous month to have time off."

You'd ask how my school year is going so far and I'd tell you that's it's been super busy.  I've been a speech pathologist for 17 years and the caseload of kids I have this year is probably the most complex I've ever had in my entire career.  

I have at least half a dozen students who have autism, one of which is predominately nonverbal and extremely defiant.  I have one kid who, unfortunately, only has half his teeth.  "Seriously, the kid has ten teeth; I counted," I'd say with an exhausted sigh.  "No wonder we can barely understand him."  Truth is, I'm not exactly sure how I am going to help him be more intelligible when we are working with such limited oral structures.  All I know is that everyone is looking to me for answers and I don't know what to do.  I can't make his adult teeth come in any faster.  I'd continue and tell you about the child who not only has some moderate-severe articulation issues going on, but who also stutters.  And, then there is the kid who has such severe mental health issues that he's afraid to walk into my therapy room for some reason.

With that, I'd go silent, letting all that sink in.  "It's going to be a very interesting year, that's for sure," I'd finally say.

The backup beeping of a box truck would break the silence.  I'd look out the garage door and see a large truck backing down my  driveway.  I'd excuse myself and go outside to greet them.  A few minutes later, I'd return, looking very relieved and singing.  

Mama always told me not to look into the eyes of the sun.  But, mama, that's where the fun is...

"See?  I told you," I'd say with a laugh.  "I hope once this eclipse is over that this song leaves me."  

Sitting back down, I'd tell you that they're loading it up now and that I'm very happy to see it go. Since August 5, the day when our new refrigerator was delivered, our old kitchen refrigerator has been sitting in my living room plugged in. "Yes, I've had three refrigerators plugged in and running for the past two weeks and one of them was in my direct line of sight in the living room," I'd say with a laugh.  It was just easier to move the old kitchen fridge into the living room and transfer the food into the new fridge once it was cold and ready.  Then, it just made sense to keep the old kitchen fridge where it was, because it was at least out of the way, until the garage fridge was taken off and we could then move the old kitchen fridge into the garage.  "Did you get all that?"  I'd ask and then we'd both laugh.

As we continued our visit, I'd share about how I passed a milestone earlier this month by having committed to a healthier lifestyle for one full year.  I'd also tell you about how I'm refocusing my efforts to lose more weight after having plateaued at 38 pounds.  I'd then share about the newest walking challenge at work.  I was on the fence as to whether I wanted to participate in it or not, but I decided at the last minute to go ahead.  "I'm just not allowing the competitive beast that reared its ugly head back in April during the spring challenge to rise up again."  You'd look at me skeptically.  "I know what you're thinking, but I'm completely serious."  Honestly, I have no idea of what place my school's team is in or what place I may be in.  I only signed up for the points that I get for joining a team and a for participating in a challenge.  My walking buddy, on the other hand, is a woman on a mission.  From what she said the other day at lunch, she's in it to win it, or at least to finish in the top three.  "I wish her all the best and I'll cheer her on every step of the way.  I'm just not walking with her every step of the way this time around."  

I'd glance at the clock, noting the time.  You'd look as well, saying how you must get going.  "I really must shower," I'd say, "for I can't stand myself any longer." I'd thank you for coming by, for it was lovely to hang with you this afternoon, and I'd walk you out.  As we walked out to your car, you'd hear me singing.

Mama always told me not to look into the eyes of the sun.  But, mama, that's where the fun is...

"Damn ear worm..."


Thank you for joining me for me latest installment of IWWHC.  Have a wonderful Saturday and weekend.

Linking up with Diana:

#weekendcoffeeshare