I Keep Working My Way Back to You, Babe.

I've opened the "new post" window several times over the last week and then sat here resenting the cursor that blinked out "you...got...nothing" in a steady Morse code. The cursor lies. I got stuff. I just seem to lack the ability to covert all the stuff from my brain to the keyboard. That's not even true. I lack the desire? The motivation? Ummmm, maybe I lack the words, or rather - the right words.

I'm on the road to recovery from whatever nasty little bug I picked up a couple weeks ago. I lost my voice for two days this past week which rendered me pretty well useless in the classroom. I was really grateful to some of my classes that gave me a break and quieted down to focus on my whispered instruction. Some students really displayed a surprising amount of compassion and turned into little co-teachers, scolding their classmates for speaking Korean and not paying attention. Frickin angels. I rewarded them with candy.

I finally went to the big hospital and got a chest X-ray and some blood work. I'm not sure what the diagnosis was, but the instructions were "take these (eight pills three times a day) and much rest. NO TALKING." I relayed that to the manager who laughed at me, just like I knew she would. Still, I kept sound to a bare minimum that second day and was able to squeak out some noise in time for my adult classes, so I was pleased.

I'd type more now, but I'm venturing out for a "hwe-shick" (party) to celebrate my friend's birthday. It's late, and I'd much rather crawl into bed, but I promised I'd be there. The party begins once her restaurant closes, hence the owl-time start. She just called right this moment so I've got to go.

More soon. I promise.