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6:51 p.m. - Thursday, Sept. 08, 2011
Snakes
I checked the time, glared at the gallons ticking away, looked around for the gas attendent, and checked the time again . . .thinking how much more efficient it would be if I could pump it myself. As if somehow, if I were pumping it - the gas would magically flow faster.

Who ARE you?

I'm such a cliche, I want to vomit.

But fuck it . . .I like tying shoes and holding little hands and singing Raffi songs and opening juice boxes and counting to 10 and reading Rosemary Wells. Go figure.

Maybe I can be emotionally inexperienced, empathetically challenged, a big fucking potty mouth . . .and a damn good preschool teacher with a master's degree.

And love it all.

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