Sans Meaningful Answers

This is where any other writer would put their perfectly formed opening sentence that would lead into a very impressive set of thoughts designed to make you laugh, cry and think all at the same time.  Unfortunately for you, this is my blog, and I'm probably not going to tell you anything more impressive than the fact that I'm considering shaving my legs, because that's basically all I ever do when it comes to shaving.

More than you needed to know, but God's honest truth.

I keep trying to write all of the half-formed thoughts in my mind:

• How our relationship is different because we've been together ten years without children.
• What it means for us to live a life that focuses on love (that covers a multitude of sins).
• My new approach to To Kill a Mockingbird and how much I'm loving it (and the fact that I need to limit myself to so many papers a semester with certain classes).

Or even address questions I can't answer:

• Why am I reading a book that compares French parenting to American parenting when I'm not a parent?  (Though, it is a truly fascinating read:  Bringing Up Bebe.)
• Why do I continue to make myself available in situations that make me feel left out?
• What is it about human nature that develops this sense of "in" or "out" that creates the entire concept of the "other"?
• Why in the world don't educators work as a team since we're all striving toward the same goal?  Isn't there a sense of unity in an "I support your classroom policies" mentality?

Since I really can't address any of these issues with any sort of intelligence, I'm going to take a bath, enjoy a glass of red wine and relax (sans grading--and I'm not going to beat myself up over it, either).  But feel free to address the things above--particularly if you have meaningful answers to those questions.