This week has been a roller coaster. Monday I was on the verge of tears all day. Tuesday I had a not-so-mini-breakdown. Wednesday I was happy, chipper even. Thursday was pretty great, too. Today, I’m all across the board.
When I was teaching, there were times of year when the kids just collectively went beserk. I blamed adolescence, but the veteran teachers had more mystical explanations: they blamed changing seasons and full moons.
Well, guess what? This week marked both the beginning of a new season AND a full moon — BOTH on September 23rd!
I bet the kiddos were a handful yesterday!
But seriously… it can’t be possible that there is some truth in that, is it? That the moods/self-possession/sanity of kids and perhaps people in general are controlled by seasons and moons? It hardly seems likely… but then again, the ocean’s tides are controlled by the moon, so maybe I just don’t give celestial bodies enough credit.
At any rate, I would way rather blame this week’s ups and downs and sidewayses on the full moon and the advent of Fall than such banal (and likely) things as work and work and work and more work and oh wait Aussie’s leaving for Palmdale for a month next week.
But I can’t think about that.
So I’ll think about the moon.
And the seasons.
And how they are fucking with me.