... because that gigantic meteor really is headed for Earth. The end is near and I have proof. DD is home sick, so I went to her school to pick up her 15 pound biology book. She needs it so she can do her homework and not get behind. International Baccalaureate students have a pathological fear of falling behind in their studies. That could possibly stem from their instructors telling them that if they do fall behind, they will never, ever be able to catch up, so they should just step in front of a train and get it over with, or words to that effect. I only have DD's description to go by, but I'm sure she'd never exaggerate.
Her high school requires all visitors to put their name on a name tag when they enter the building. They don't ask for any I.D. so you could put any name you want on the darn thing. Next time, I'm going to be Catherine Zeta Jones. Except for being older, shorter, fatter, and grayer, she and I could be twins. I slap on the name tag, then walk six feet to the office directly behind the desk where you get the name tag. Yeah, I know--I roll my eyes every time. A very nice woman wearing the cutest crocheted sweater volunteers to open DD's locker for me. On the way to the locker, she stops to close another kid's locker--a piece of a coat was hanging out of the partially open door. This thing was a mess, your typical high school kid locker. Jimmy Hoffa could be in there, and you'd never know it. I steel myself for whatever happens to be in DD's locker. Here's what we found:
If this is not proof of the Apocalypse, I don't know what is. Most of the time, you can't see the floor in DD's room, for all the CLEAN clothes lying around, yet her locker is immaculate. My head is still spinning, and it's not just from the bug I'm about to come down with.
Cute Crochet Sweater Woman tells me, oh by the way, the school is crawling with kids coughing up lungs. Nice! If I didn't pick up some sort of disgusting virus at my doctor's office this morning, I could make up for it by licking the door handles on my way out. When I give DD her 25 pound book, she asks if it's O.K. to do her homework at the table, in the same room where I knit. I'm trying desperately to finish my Knitting Olympics blanket before the closing ceremony Saturday night, but it's not looking good. By then, I figure I'll have one foot in the grave and the other on that green banana peel.