Writer's block

I have blog block already, and I've barely written 50 posts. Usually my weekday posts are about school and then I come up with something profound to say over the weekend.

I was playing with the idea of posting about how men love it when women cook, but then I couldn't really defend it properly nor put a wicked spin on it.

Then I was going to post about how I'm in age limbo because I'm in that stage up here where I'm either too young or too old. I feel like an eleven year old sometimes - too young to be a teenager, too old to be a little kid. But that's the only comment I had there.

I think I'm just distracted. One is from my preoccupation with school and planning and boring, complicated things about how the hell I'm going to teach Health and Career Education (which includes a section on sex ed and drug abuse).

I'm also distracted by my Christmas plans ... already. I'm wondering about Christmas shopping (which will either be online or not at all. I hope my family likes money in envelopes). I'm thinking about my annual Christmas card and coming up with the perfect image. I'm deciding about how I'm getting home, either by ferry or flight. I'm thinking about going to the big city and who I'm going to stay with while there and how long I'll stay and wondering if I'll see all my teacher and res friends.

I'm distracted by waiting for all my packages to arrive. I have two coming from home: 1 has contact lenses, the other is a mystery package. I have one coming from Amazon with 4 CDs. I have one coming from London Drugs with a webcam. I have one coming from Sears with bras, underwear and a winter coat. I have one coming from Brilliant with pink pencils. I have one coming from Robin with new clothes. And then I'm still waiting for all my stuff from Dad to be shipped.

Ok, now that I've written about every little thing in my brain, maybe my next post will be profound. Maybe it's time I do another Ode to someone.