Sometimes

“How do you feel?”

“Tired,” I say.

“Tired is not an emotion.”

“I’m tired. Exhausted.”

“Synonyms of ‘tired’ don’t count as emotions either. Maybe you can draw how you feel.”

I color the whole page black.

Untitled

Picking up an expensive bottle of boutique lotion, she read the label: Calming lavender. The scent confused her more than it comforted.
She smelled the lotion and heard the moan of the old woman in a rest home bed. "Help me. Please help me. My god, someone help me." Calming lavender and the stench of adult diapers, breakfast milk sitting until dinner, the alcohol of hand sanitizer. Everyone in their own world and no privacy. "There's a scorpion on the wall." The red button to call the nurse. "You have to swallow the hole pill, Ma'am. Don't chew it." Her hands will get cold. That's when you know. Vanilla pudding, apple sauce. "How is her oxygen saturation today?" And the heavy lavender room spray, too thin to cover it all.
She put the lotion back on the glass shelf and left.

The Best Professional Compliment Ever

I have been working in Watts for the last few weeks with Carver Elementary School and the Watts/Willowbrook Boys and Girls Club. 

I was on my way out of the B&G one Friday and was stopped by the computer teacher, Mr. Sean. He formally introduced himself, though we'd been passing each other in the hall for a couple weeks.

"You're the new sub with CYFC, right?"

I nod and smile. (Dude, it's seven, already. All the kids have gone home. End of a long week. Time to clock out...)

"I've been meaning to introduce myself. I'm Sean."

Smile. Nod. "Casey."

"Yeah, I know who you are. The kids have been talking about you." He laughs. Mr. Sean's computer room faces the educational center, where I work.

"Uh-oh." I joke. (But, okay, seriously.... traffic...) I'm about ready to tell him to have a nice weekend. 

Cue: best compliment ever.

"Yeah. They've been telling me all week. 'Hey, Mr. Sean. See that lady over there? (pointing through the window toward where I teach) She a'ight (insert adorable third grade chin-up gesture).'"

Cue: Casey's heart melting. Cue: Affirmation that she's making a difference. Cue: Rejuvenation. Cue: Rays of light, mana from heaven, burning bush, doves, cherubs in neon-colored Boys and Girls Club shirts eating Flaming Hot Cheetos getting red finger prints all over Mr. Sean's keyboard--third grade cherubs with chin-up gestures.

I love my job.