This morning I had to literally flop out of bed in order to wake up. I sleep on the futon in the apartment that folds lengthwise (read: hotdog style), so it just looks like a couch. I could pull it out at night- this would be relatively easy to do, but I honestly don't want to get lonely in a big bed all by myself. So, I snuggle up with the back of the couch every night and usually wake up rested and ready to start the day.
This morning was absolutely ridiculous. I had these mornings a lot last year, and I knew it would come eventually. I knew that there would come the time when I would have to pep-talk in the morning again. "Stephanie. You love your job. You will feel better after a shower. You love your job. Think of all those cute kids. You have GOT this. No worries. Only a few hours and then you can come home for a nap. Go. Go. Get in the shower. You can do this. You are loved. You are useful. You will be AWESOME." I think I went through this twice this morning, and then in my semi-stupor I literally hit the floor when I threw off the cover and rolled over. I'm only about 18 inches off the ground, but still. Banging my head on the leg of the desk chair didn't help any.
Feeling a bit more fresh but still a little traumatized from the rather harsh start to the morning, I proceeded to turn on my music and walk to school. I got to the bottom of the staircase and saw wet. Looking out the front doors of the building, I could see that the ground was covered in wet. Apparently it rained last night, and it was threatening to do so again. Running back up the stairs to get my umbrella, I finally made it out the door to head for school.
The only word I could think of the whole way was "dripping." Romania is just a drippy place, even when it hasn't just rained. There is dripping paint that has dried and dripping spirits in people and dripping ceilings and a dripping economy. (Yes, I'm aware that this doesn't make a HUGE amount of sense, but bear with me). And I was getting dripped on this morning for sure, both literally and figuratively.
I got to school and "turned on the silly" and started with the first class. About 10 minutes into the lesson, we were singing and dancing and clapping and bouncing and tapping our heads and wiggling our fingers. I looked over at Victor, a boy of unbelievable adorability (not a word, but let's run with it) and his eyes get wide and then he just sneezes. Everywhere. And as he literally spews gunk everywhere, he leaves a trail of DRIPPING snot hanging from his nose, almost touching his chest. I run to him with a kleenex, and nearly collapse on the floor with laughter. Because, friends, Romania is a drippy place.
And I've GOT this.