Decisions, decisions

Here are all the things a responsible grownup would do this evening if she were in my position: write two freelance articles, look up the answer to an editor’s question and e-mail her back, write lesson plans for the pre-AP class, clean the kitchen, declutter the living room, fold the laundry, declutter the office, clean the bathroom, clean the rodents’ cages, run an errand, pick up snacks for homework night, and put stamps on some letters to parents so I can drop them in the mail.

Here is what I am doing: drinking blue Gatorade, blogging, Twittering, Facebooking, and listening to the Grateful Dead. 

What shall I do next?

To be sure, I’ve done a little work today — I bought two plants for my classroom and repotted them, washed two loads of laundry and dried one, stoked the fire twice, and reorganized all the files on my hard drive — but as Saturdays go, this one isn’t exactly the most productive I’ve ever had.

I have about five hours to redeem myself before I head to bed. Maybe I’ll fold those clothes on the bed before I head out in search of that monitor riser so I can get started on those freelance articles….



I’ve always thought it might be fun, at some vague point many years in the future, to go back to college and try to pick up a math teaching certificate.

I decided yesterday that this semester would be a good time to start that process.

I took off during my eighth-hour planning period today to meet with an adviser at TCC, where I was told I would have to take a test to find out what math class I should enroll in this semester. The test results were about what you’d expect from an English teacher who hadn’t thought about math in over 15 years. Based on my score, I was told I really should sign up for the most basic algebra class in the catalog, but I could skip the prereqs and go straight to college algebra if I signed a waiver stating, in essence, that I understood that signing up for college algebra would be an exercise in futility.

I signed the waiver and enrolled in an eight-week class that started at 5:30 this evening, wondering if I might be making a colossal mistake that would serve only to waste $300.

Five minutes into class, I knew I’d made the right call. The instructor is awesome, and his review problems sandblasted all the rust right off of my math skills. I nearly wept for joy when we started working with imaginary numbers — a concept that delights me (and always has) at levels I cannot begin to explain or understand.

Math kicked my butt in high school. I intend to return the favor this semester….