Love and Football

I thought I was a cool girl. I thought I was the girl that could hang out with all the guys. I mean, I weld, I use power tools, I build stuff, I drink Boone's Farm straight from the bottle and I like football. Like being the operative word.
People who like football watch one or two games a week. The drink a beer, they eat pizza, they root for the home team and all that.
But, people who love football, well that's another story all together.

I love my boyfriend. Yes, we fight and sometimes I wish the earth would temporarily swallow him up, but at the end of the day - or week, as it may be - I still want to be his girlfriend. However, never ever ever did I ever predict what it would be like to live with someone who loves football.

I haven't held a remote in my hand in 48 hours. And it's not because I haven't wanted to watch TV, it's because the TV is totally and completely devoted to the love of football. And it's just too much trouble to try and get a show in edgewise.

Having Direct TV also doesn't help. I mean, how many games can possibly be played on one day?!!! More than I can count, it turns out. Thank Sweet Jebus for Netflix. This relationship would be over without it.

And so, to sum up, it turns out, I'm not a very cool girl. My like of football has now been turned into hatred because I've been forced to live with so much of it over the past two years. Yes, I can weld and use power tools, but all I want to watch now are romantic comedies and crime shows. I don't want to watch a football game. Not in a boat, not with a goat, and definitely not four days out of the week.

What'cha do?!

"Miss Queen, whatcha be doin' when you leave here?"
That's what one of my 5-year old students asked me today.  I said, "Lots of things!  Sometimes I go home, sometimes I go teach a yoga class."
"Yoga?!  I can't even do yoga no more!"
I suspect he has no idea what yoga is.

Ridicuous things I've said today:
"Where do I want your bottom?!"
"Your artwork is NOT a toy!"
"Stop spitting into the crayon cup, please."

I Can't Cuss at Work

I want to cuss a blue streak! Just let loose and let the F-bombs and b!tch%s fly all over the place! But, I can't because I teach elementary children and it might actually get me fired. Who knows?! I've never tried it, nor seen anyone do it, so I don't really want to test it out.
But, man! am I going to fantasize about it.
I would like to go up to some of the heifers I work with and tell them what I really think about their work eithic, their inability to get along OR be helpful, and their crusty feet.
I would tell them once and for all how I really feel, then make a dramatic exit. And possibly take a few days off. That's my fantasy. And during my few days off, I would do all I could to let my muscles atrophy and watch as much Netflix as possible. Mmmmmmm...wonderful.
In other news, my students are being really good right now, although I see a couple staring off into space. I can't blame them, though. It's what I wish I could be doing right now.