I blinked and we’re halfway through June.
Sunday
I had a productive Sunday, cleaning, rearranging things a little, and lugging up the window ACs because the weather called for some 90 degree days (the forecast got it right). I finally brought the papasan downstairs, too. It used to sit up near my desk so Sammy would have a place to curl up near me while I worked, but I never got any use of it there personally. Down here, I’ve already made much greater use of it. And sitting in it makes me think of Sammy, so that puts a smile on my face.
Monday
Aung came over to spend some time with me a few different days this week. I think sometimes he gets sick of his house and wants an escape. We played War, but round after round, either of us could win. We paused the game, and to remember whose deck is whose, I put mine by the salt shaker (because I can never get enough salt on my food), and Aung’s by the pepper shaker (because he loves pepper and spiciness). The cards are still sitting there waiting for us to continue.
Tuesday
Every year when spring fully warms, I mosey around my parents’ backyard near the swing set and look for four leaf clovers. Every year I find at least one in the lucky patch. There are actually three pictured in this photo.
In other news, I’ve been making my way through the Marvel movies at Tomaino’s urging. I finally made it to Infinity War, and Tomaino didn’t want me to watch without him. While I wasn’t planning on sitting down for almost three hours Tuesday evening, he basically called me up and said, “What time are we watching?”
He’d left early Monday with a stomach bug, and I did not want those stomach bug germs near me, so he decided we’d FaceTime or jump on a Google Meet to watch together. My first thought was: What are we, twelve??
Apparently yes— we are twelve.
He had to count down before we each pressed play and everything so we’d be synced up.
And don’t worry— I’m appropriately embarrassed that we did this.
Wednesday
My Wednesday night critique group went very well. I’m stoked they’re into the book and giving me such positive feedback. They are, of course, giving me constructive feedback as well, but it’s really excellent and insightful and focused on drawing out thematic elements more. It’s the type of feedback that feels like it’s coming from a place of genuine interest and deep intrigue. It makes me feel soooo good about the way the story is coming along!
Thursday
One of my coworkers loves to call me Miss Tiffany. I don’t hate being called that— in fact, it’s what the kids in Utica called me because that’s how we were all introduced. I especially liked when they’d call me Miss Tiff and it sounded a bit like “mischief.” But at VVS, I’m Miss Azzarito, and in front of the kids, I refer to all the other teachers in the same way. We all do. Except one person who doesn’t realize he’s being a sexist asshole, but is still totally being a sexist asshole.
I’m ashamed to admit that I let it go for a little while. It took a few times for me to even realize he was doing it, since I’d been called that for so many years in Utica. Once I did notice it, I just shook my head at it for awhile. Because I don’t hate being called that. I just hate that being called that by him is indicative of how he sees me as less. Inferior.
This week I had to tolerance left in my system for bullshit, and after he pissed me off for other reasons, I bit back.
“What’s up, Miss Tiffany?”
“Living life, Mr. Shawn.”
He sort of got what I was pointing out, but threw a lame excuse at me. His wife is a dance instructor and apparently the instructors are referred to with Miss or Mr. in front of their first names. His excuse doesn’t hold much water, though. I’m literally the only person at the school he does this to.
Friday
I’m not the only one totally spent. My co-teacher graded the answer key that she made.
The end-of-year fatigue is EXTEME this year.
Saturday
Saturday was a lovely day. After my mom and I went strawberry picking, we got iced chais from Utica Roasting in Clinton. When we got over there, we saw a newer, small restaurant called The Compound (they make they’re own butter and specialize in different style grilled cheese sandwiches) was having a Pride Celebration. There was a musician outside who I happen to know, so I told my mom we should stop to listen to a few songs. We stood and listened, bought some wears from local artists selling jewelry and other goods, and then enjoyed some grilled cheese sandwiches in the Green across from the stores.
It felt like a lovely summer day.
Two weeks. Two weeks until it really is summer…
I hate wishing time away. I want to savor and appreciate each day. But holy fucking shit. TWO WEEKS.