My freshman year in high school, my drama teacher had all her students memorize several lines from Gilbert and Sullivan's Iolanthe. When I went on to become a drama teacher myself, I had all my students memorize the same lines. While memorization in and of itself is no big deal, the trick with this particular assignment is that it had to be said in one breath. There was very little room for forgetting the lines because then you'd end up passing out on stage, holding your breath until that elusive line popped back into your head. Well, if you were really dedicated to the lines you might pass out. Most of the time, people just take the extra breath and then carry on. Weaklings.
I don't teach drama anymore, and am not even involved in any theatrical projects at the moment. However, that didn't stop my brain from somehow bringing to mind the lines a few days ago.
You're a regular wreck,
with a crick in your neck,
and no wonder you snore
for your head's on the floor,
and you've needles and pins
from your soles to your shins,
and your flesh is a-creep,
for your left leg's asleep,
and you've a cramp in your nose,
and a fly on your nose,
and some fluff in your lung,
and a feverish tongue,
and a thirst that's intense,
and a general sense,
that you haven't been sleeping in clover.
I get out of breath just typing it out because the whole thing is so ingrained on my mind in one breath that I actually tried typing it in one breath. I finally took a breath because I started seeing blue lights. It's true. I can talk faster than I can type.
So why the heck am I telling you this?
Well, I found it rather ironic that just a few days after I recited these lines to Sydney (who was so not as impressed as she should have been), I, in fact, woke up Monday morning with a terrible crick in my neck. When I woke up, I discovered I couldn't turn my head to the left at all without searing pain coursing up and down my neck. It was so awful that it almost made me wish I was in labor again so that I could have such delicious drugs as they give to laboring women to make the pain go away. It was like I had somehow, in my dreams, been involved in a car accident that had left my neck aching. Even today, three days later, I still don't have full mobility in turning my head. I refuse to believe it has something to do with getting old. Not quite sure what it does have to do with, but something not age related.
(On a bizarre note, since I have to turn from the hips instead of the waist, it has made me think of that episode of Brady Bunch, where Carol hits some guy's car in the parking lot, and then he sues her for damages and takes her to court, and they figure out he's a fraud when they drop a stack of books off the table and the doofus turns his neck. Oh, those Brady's. They were so smart.)
Anyway, yes, I have a crick in my neck.
As for the "regular wreck," I'm going to give that title to Jason because he has had a terrible toothache all week. It has been paining him for a couple months now, but over the weekend it got worse. In fact, he was in so much pain on Sunday that I dug out my oxycodone pills that I received when I had my wisdom teeth pulled. I hadn't used too many of the pills, prompting the following conversation:
Jason: Oxycodone is highly addictive.
Me: I know. I hope you don't get addicted.
Jason: I won't. But people are. *pause* We could have sold these pills and made some money.
Me: Enough to cover the cost of us going to prison?
Jason: Oh, we have clean records. They'd just fine us.
Me: Clearly you've put some thought into this.
Good thing we're moral, law-abiding citizens who don't sell drugs (and of course do not want to perpetuate the drug problem that is wreaking havoc on Marion County), because then Jason wouldn't have had them to help alleviate the pain in his mouth. He also wouldn't have had the lovely experience of taking medication on an empty stomach Monday morning, making him so queasy that he ended up spewing his guts into a garbage can during his first period class. He was in the middle of teaching; he paused, said, "Just a second," walked back to his desk, and sat down.
Student: "Hey! Are you throwing up?"
Jason: "Yes. Hold on a minute."
If those 6th graders didn't already think he was the coolest teacher ever, they do now.
Jason ended up taking the rest of the day off (because it's hard to maintain control of your students if you're busy throwing up into a trash can), and he had to take yesterday off because his dentist appointment was in the middle of the day. The news is he has to have a root canal, which is a bummer, but at least we have great dental insurance, which somehow makes it seem just a little bit better.
When he headed back to school this morning, of course the news had traveled and he had achieved minor celebrity status. I don't know that he'll be nominated for any sort of Crystal Apple Award, but it certainly ranks right up there with progressive techniques to get your students to pay attention in class.
Between the wreck in Jason's mouth, and the crick in my neck, we're making for some mighty fine parents. Mighty fine.