It was my intention to do some sewing tonight and then hopefully show off my awesome new tote by the end of the evening.
Apparently, though, I have misplaced the pattern. I finally broke down and ordered the fabric I needed for said tote last week and did, at least, get it washed tonight. But there will be no sewing tonight. Update as writing – I found the pattern, in a box I had checked and in which it was supposed to be. It was just on the bottom. Of course. So there may be sewing tonight after I finish, you’ll just have to wait until later to see it.
I spent the better portion of my day in class or preparing for the presentation in class. In fact, I got up at 5am just so I could make copies of our “press release” before class started this morning. Quite honestly, I feel like our presentation was the worst of all of them – or at least the rest of the class seemed better prepared than I felt (which could be the case).
Many of the presentations (including my own) dealt with the issue of physical activity and/or obesity. A few of them looked at the need for physical activity in school, which brought up my own memories of the dreaded gym class.
Oh how I hated gym class.
From about the time I hit puberty until, well, now, I was overweight. I was the chubby girl. I was also very clumsy. I sprained my ankle at least twice by tripping over air. TWICE. When you combine chubby and clumsy, well, gym class is not your friend. While I now know the importance of actual participation in the physical activity that is an integral part of gym class, there is nothing I could say to my teenage self that would have made me change my tune then.
One of my memories of gym class is doing aerobics on the stage along with a Richard Simmons video. Our gym teacher at that time was a fairly fit woman who also taught some of our government classes. I later had her for one of my AP government classes and it was then that we, as a class, learned that she was kinda fun and cool. She was one of those teachers who seemed weird from afar.
Unfortunately, Ms. A had some problems that we never suspected (obviously, being high school juniors) and took her own life during the following semester. I wish that she would have been able to get the help she needed. I’m sure her family and friends feel the same way.
It’s weird, the things I think about when I’m overtired and half asleep.