Yet another day spent spinning my wheels, losing ground, working uphill, in general just being me.
Arriving at the fifth grade graduation shindig, I see 5 deputies. Uh-oh, I hope it isn't about us, my paranoia and/or PTSD kicking into high gear. I try to pass by unobtrusively, only to have one of the men catch my eye and nod me on. Something about a custody dispute that sure eliminates me from any fray. Who'd fight me for these kids?
Paloma pointed out my shirt was on inside out. Great. I'd already been with administrators from the other school and hugged a bunch of folks at this school. Sometimes I just feel fortunate to have found a shirt to put on.
Well, I noticed Cindy," another principal later told me. "I've just learned to not say much about how folks are dressed."
OK, just let me make a fool out of myself.
Or does that go without saying?