No Resting for Wicked

It's 10 p.m.

I'm still at school.

Everyone else has left . . . which may make it easier to get out of the parking lot. Most of my colleagues left at the half.

So far, the only casualties are my pants . . . ripped while climbing the fence, in order to get the attention of the juniors who were scooping up freshmen to "crowd surf". Crowd surfing should only be done with willing participants. And should not be done on an incline. And I was the ONLY adult who said anything. Which pisses me off. And they were some good pants. For yoga pants, anyhow.

Fast forward to next day:

I'm wearing pantyhose. Pantyhose, a sheath dress and a silk jacket that is already making me warm. It is light pink with an Asian print, cheery for me, which is why I'm wearing it. I like to surprise people at Homecoming. I bought on sale, however, and it's too big. But there is no one to pick up at Homecoming, so it doesn't much matter. No one cares if I look like a shiny Asian-inspired bus. One of the sophomores will still try to hump me. Yeech.

I will be the only adult on the dance floor. With my camera. I will say "Leave room for Jesus" 2,342 times and tell 11 girls to "put that skirt/dress down". I will play prude for four hours . . . I'm already 49 minutes late. And then I will lose the pantyhose and the jacket, and perhaps have some fun.

Remember . . . Leave room for Jesus.