Burnout.

I don't want to teach.

I just want to lie in bed, watch movies, and eat my weight in chocolate.

Is that too much to ask, really?

It's a small world after all.

I read this book fall semester of my junior year of college, as part of a young adult literature class. At the end of the semester, after unsuccessfully trying to sell it back to Harding's bookstore, I dropped it in some give-away box with the other undesirables, anxious to lighten my load.

Little did I know, the give-away box was intended for a small start-up school in Africa, desperate for books.

This morning, the headmaster of KICS returned Ghost Boy to its original owner. Barely able to contain himself, he hurried to my class before first period, opened to the inside page, and revealed my name.


I'm taking this as just one more little affirmation from the universe that I really am meant to be here.


(somehow, an ex-boyfriend's old textbook also ended up in my Rwandan classroom. i'm not quite sure what to do with that).