So what's with granola?

I really do intend on blogging more. I try. I really try. Writing regularly is hard. Maybe that's why most writers are poor and melancholy--too much thought, not enough action. I like thought and action together, which is one of the reasons I chose to become a teacher. I can only think of a few vocations that involve more thought and action than teaching, and they all involve mortal peril.

So because nothing has really inspired me today, I am writing a regular entry. You know the type: "Today I had granola for breakfast. What's with granola anyway?"

In truth, I did not eat breakfast. I threw a pop-tart in my bag and ate it while driving home to eat lunch. I hate having extra time on weekday mornings; it throws off my groove. I have to be up and moving quickly or I lose momentum and feel sluggish all morning. So I set my alarm clock a mere twenty minutes before I need to be driving down the block, and I make a mad rush to get out the door. Breakfast is a casualty of collegiate life.

I eat breakfast after school (at 9:00) on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and that's been really nice. I love having that half hour to drink a cup of tea and have real cereal with milk in it. I read the paper then, too. That breakfast time is some of my favorite time in the week. I need time to stop and breathe. Sometimes I feel like breathing is a casualty of collegiate life, too.

lady weather

Today I intended on taking my books to the park and studying under a tree. The forecast was beautiful--sunny with a high of 83. I am an ardent fan of indian summer, and I figured I would enjoy today. The crispy smell of dry leaves baking in the sun and the sharp end-of-summer grass are things to be delighted in.

Unfortunately, I live in a city where the saying, "If you don't like the weather, just wait a few hours," is often unbelievably true. The sunny sky that promised good times this morning became more moody than a 15 year old girl and by noon, she had a temper tantrum. Lighting flashed, thunder crashed, and the air was white with rain. All in about the span of 20 minutes. I came home from work to a puddly world, complete with soggy leaves and dripping branches. No park today.

Still, I'm not complaining. I love the weather here. Maybe its because I was raised in this climate so, like a child brought up on too much television gets ADD, I need meterological stimulation. When the weather is the same day in and day out I get stir crazy and start shaking my fists skyward. I adore not knowing whether to pull out a t-shirt or a sweater, and putting on both "just in case." I love the freakish nature and the total rebellion of the forecast, as though she yells to us, "You think you've got me all figured out! Think again, suckers!" And then she'll get all calm, cool, and collected. For a few minutes, anyway.