I hate Wednesdays

John left on Tuesday.

On Wednesday, I got Hannah out of bed and into the bathroom, and then I dragged myself into the kitchen to make coffee. Suddenly I hear *splash*, "Oh no!" What in the hell? Hannah slipped and stepped into the toilet. To do that she had to have been standing on the edge of the tub. Her job was to pee and put on her clothes, in that order. I don't know what induced her to stand on the fixtures, and she won't say. After that she was convinced her pants had gotten toilet water on them, although I didn't see any wetness until after she stuck her foot under the faucet in the tub, so she had to change, etc.

This was after she had informed me that she didn't have to go to her first class that morning at 7:45. *boggled* What? She had mentioned that the PE teacher was going to be out, but I assumed there would be a substitute. I should have remembered that there is never a substitute--the teachers just have to juggle the best they can. Did she have a note from her teacher? No. I asked if she was sure about a million times, and finally she said that one of her classmates had asked the teacher if that meant he could sleep through the first hour, and she said yes. I had to be somewhere at 8:30 for tutoring, and normally catch the bus at 7:45, so I was in a bit of a quandry about getting Hannah to school (once she was free of the toilet water). Finally, I just sent her off to school on foot when I got on the bus. She walks home every day by herself, she could manage the other direction, which is downhill to boot.

Then that afternoon one of the mice bit her finger and drew blood. She didn't bother to tell me about it until this morning on the way to school, so I suspect she deserved it. She was quick to tell me that she washed it with soap right away, so no mouse diseases for her, I guess.

Then after ballet we were going to get a bite of Turkish fast food, but she was Little Miss Cranky Pants (and I was probably Mrs. Cranky Pants by that point), and a motorcycle racing loudly by as we were waiting to cross the street was the last straw for her. She just wanted to go home. Luckily for us, we live next door to a restaurant, so she got her schnitzel and fries, and I got a fabulous omelette, made with potatoes, onions, and ham. My love of potatoes on all possible dishes dates back to the Enchiladas Rancheras at La Reyna in Austin, and it was just the cure for a cranky afternoon. Hannah picked a seat out on the fancy new terrace, so we got to melt into goo in the late afternoon sun until it went over the ridge behind us right at 7 pm. We waddled home in a much better mood than when we left for ballet.

Yesterday was mercifully disaster-free (except for Hannah and some boys having a difference of opinion at school, which is not uncommon). This afternoon Hannah's class is supposed to paint a mural based on Keith Haring's work, and she has been complaining that she doesn't want to go since yesterday. She may get her wish, though, because it has already poured rain for an hour this morning since I dropped her off at school. It may still be too soggy to paint 4 hours from now.

Also, I have had my student employee job for a month now, and one of the instructors at the English Department has already asked me if I would like to be considered for the pool of temporary instructors. There's an outside chance I could be teaching a course on making presentations in English next fall. I taught a similar course in the translation department last fall, and I *am* the queen of PowerPoint (although I find most of the bells and whistles distasteful and generally skip them), so I think I could do a good job at it. Movin' on up!