As we move into autumn, it's getting daylight later and later. Right now the rain is pattering on the roof. It is too warm to fire up the woodstove, but the propane heater ticks beside me. Everything is so warm and cozy that I am having a hard time motivating.
I bought one of those wheeled book bags. I've been toting everything in multiple bags and a back pack because I have so many books. It was getting hard to be organized.
You know what I love best about school? Just talking to people. Remember Mr. Ammo on his Wrist guy? His real name is Bill. He's got a keen sharp intelligence to him. He had to debate prostitution. The bad thing is that he had to be prepared to argue pro AND con, because he didn't know which side he was going to be assigned. He said, "Can I ask you a question?" and we had quite an interesting discussion on it. I like that. I like being a part of things. I am a smart woman. I have always known this, but it's always been a bit of a nuisance. Sometimes it seems like I do not 'fit' anywhere. A couple Thursdays ago, when I was sick and missed a day? Students came up and said, "We missed you. Class was boring without you." These may sound like little things, the fact that a student asks my opinion, or that other students might miss my presence in the classroom. Or that a teacher waits for me to gather my stuff and we walk out together talking. But it feels like a big deal. It makes me feel like, for the first time in my life, I fit where I am. Perfectly. I fit at school. I fit at my job. I fit at home with my husband. I fit. It's a very nice feeling.
I've been asked to do three presentations for the teachers of our county. So I worked a little bit on that over the weekend. I was asked to speak on breast cancer/wellness The two year anniversary of the discovery of that lump passed on Sunday. It was a strange day. You can't help but look back. At the same time, writing about the experiences seemed strange, like I was writing about something that happened to someone else. I am a humorist, primarily, but those early days of breast cancer, going back and re-reading some of my posts ~ well, there really wasn't an awful lot of funny stuff going on. I remember looking at the possibility of death. I knew someone who had just died from breast cancer, so that made the possibility very real to me. I remember crying a lot, and hating myself for crying, but I couldn't stop. And then the tears stopped. That's all. Life goes on. So I pulled myself up by my bootstraps, and went on living.
I think about my life pre-cancer. I think about it now. Holy cats, people. I never imagined that my life would change so dramatically in just two years. In fact, there was a period of time when I couldn't even imagine life after cancer. But here I am.
Here I am.