It's 1:15 AM, and I was supposed to stay in all night. I'm on duty, after all. That means that I have to stay in, in case some kid has some emergency, or misses his mom, or just wants to chat. That's fine and good. However, in all of my six weeks here, I've never once had a kid come into my room after 11:00 PM check-in, for any reason at all. And tonight, it's raining. Tropical Storm Alex, perhaps? Making its way up the coast a little early? The first storm of the season. Anyway, it seemed prudent to strip down, strap on my lanyard, put my prox card in the pocket of my swim trunks, and run around in the rain.
Gosh, Donald, when you put it that way, it sounds like so much fun.
So here I sit. It's 1:18 AM. My hair's wet, but the rest of me is dry. Naked, because I can't summon the will to put any clothes back on for the 15 minute interim between wet and cold and bed. Not tired, because when I get more than six hours of sleep, I feel like I'm overly well-rested, like I'm wasting my day. I could be doing productive things, like writing mass emails for almost nobody to dubiously read.
Today I learned that I'm in charge of 21 kids, sixteen years of age, who cannot stay silent for longer than four seconds. Four seconds! That was the record tonight. It's 1:20 AM, and I can hear them upstairs thumping. Unable to remain quiet even for somebody else's sake. Fortunately, I'm being productive, and not trying to sleep. On the other hand, there's the last vestiges of a tropical storm outside, trying its hardest to lull me to bed. But I'm not tired. Not yet. Nothing's clicking. Nothing's saying "go to bed."
1:24 AM. Press return.
It would be funny, I'm sure, to watch me, or anybody at a computer alone in a dorm room alone at night, naked, trying to think of something cogent to write. Sitting, scratching at my belly (it itches!), playing with my eyebrow hair, scratching my head, my neck. Funny in the queer way, not the ha ha way.
Here, I'll put up some pictures, and call it a night.