full of thanks

It’s with a peculiar degree of satisfaction that I notice that at least five members of the before-class bevy bunched on the balcony — I’m unrepentant, so do not bother chastising the alliteration — were former students of mine. I’m tempted to yell out to them, but don’t want, particularly, to be noticed by the more-than-five who know me not at all.

We were three days shrouded in rain, but have resurrected today under a blue sky, and I’m in a celebratory mood such that I shall this sentence a preposition end with. (Steadfast in rebellion am I.)

I consider it a lovely world for many reasons, not the least of which being that, upon the most recent Saturday of my existence, I finished typing a certain sixty-four page document which has been in composition for a year and more. It wants minor revisions, but nothing more.

Therefore, though at least three current students are struggling to put their thoughts into paragraphs for the paper draft due today, and though my car CD player met its end with the scent of an electrical fire on the morning of this second day of October, I cannot find it in my heart to grieve.

Like Anna Kamieńska, I want
“to thank everyone for the fact that they exist
and at times even feel like smiling.”*

Perhaps I shall.

*From Anna Kamieńska, “Gratitude,” which, by the by, I shall read to my students today.

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