I'd like to take this opportunity to thank all of my students for sharing so generously their virulence with me last week. Because I've been FLAT OUT this weekend - this, of all weekends, with its unseasonably glorious weather - with what I believe to be the Scrabble flu (yep, H1N1). The group home where I teach is a perfect petri dish, I've found, for all things that produce fever, phlegm and inflammation. Even though I'm so heavily armed with Clorox wipes, sanitizing spray and Purell, I guess there's no stopping this virus, especially in a place that's this dirty and inhabited by so many young men with poor personal hygiene.
I feel like there's a small elephant sitting on my chest. I'm tired, in spite of getting 12 hours of sleep last night. I don't feel like watching football, and my bloodshot eyes can't follow more than a line of text on a page. Typing this blog entry is exhausting. I think I just caught myself starting to drool.
But I'm dying to get back to my reading workshop tomorrow. We have to keep reading Fighting El Fuego so that we can find out how the book ends before two of my students graduate this Thursday. FEF is about a young Puerto Rican-American kid who has a big anger management problem and gets into fights all the time. I have some of the most reluctant readers actually begging me to read this book with them. No need to build background here, folks.
So, it's off to bed with tea and cough drops. And my rally cap.
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