When I was a kid, I was morbidly fascinated by middle-grade Holocaust literature, both fiction and non-fiction. I had one book that especially haunted me, called I Have Lived a Thousand Years. a harrowing memoir about a teenage concentration camp survivor. The title comes to mind every once in a while, when I've had an especially exhausting week at work. Which, believe me, I KNOW, is the trashiest, most ignorant thing to compare my cushy life with anything remotely traumatizing or difficult. And yet, this week was the first full week of school, and I was weirdly very ill for about 36 hours in which I powered through in a Coricidin-buffered haze, which bifurcated the week in a confusing way. And all of a sudden it was the weekend and arriving at home on Friday felt like lifting the trap door to my bomb-shelter and stepping out into the sunlight after a month underground eating canned tuna and drinking my own urine.
That sounds like hyperbole, but go talk to any teacher in the first month of school and read them that analogy. I will give you $50 if they do anything other than shrug and say, "Yea, that checks out."
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| On Saturday we ate Very Good Sandwiches at Little Hats |
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To be a fly on the wall in this space!
Analog Reading:
I expect to, but will regret to, finish The Heaven and Earth Grocery Store this afternoon. The tension is rising and I have about 30 pages left and I'm desperate to find out what happens but then it'll be over and I just hate saying goodbye to these fully-fleshed out, compelling characters.
Up next, TBD.
A stress-induced germ invasion you conquered. Whaaaaat, only one book. Just imagine if your job was in the public library!!
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