Tuesday was, by far, the hardest day of my reform school process. My "church" buddies and I had a weekend "tent revival" with Iggy Pop in Chicago. He was fantastic preachin' to the choir about us Passengers experiencing Some Weird Sin Until Wrong Feels Right. I think we collectively clocked in about ten hours of sleep over a 72 hour period. Got in around 'round midnight on Monday, and had to be up for stateville at 530, still hearing, and thinking, the White Noise of it all. Physically being there was the best I could do. I achieved absolutely no higher learning with the audiological and neurological damage from this previous weekend's Airborne Toxic Event. Boyo, where is that Murray Siskind when I need him? That's the kind of lecturer I should seek out for education after a long weekend. I wandered the halls, and I sat at desks, and prayed to Fortuna that she would spin me through The Confederacy of Dunces that are currently discussing the Civil War in my History class. She was gracious, and wheeled me through my Algebra quiz with absolutely no alpha, theta, or or beta brainwaves to speak of. Perhaps, I should celebrate that Ball's Bluff victory battle on my brain, and make an occasional cheese dip? Ignatius would be ever so proud.
Due to that matted right eye of my son, school was not attended by either of us, today. My continual reformation awaits me on next Tuesday.
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