I'm Not Embarrassed, But I'm Admitting I Suck (But I Love It). Friday. Done.

75 kids, 8 teachers, 7 youth literacy leaders, and another week of CWP-Fairfield summer work. I came home, Ali and I went to get our hairs cut, and Kanye insisted on doing his own. When Ali and I returned, I sat down to write and (phew) submitted a piece 24 hours before it was due.

(wipes sweat from brow here and prays).

It was 9:10 p.m. and Kanye and Ali wanted to know, "Are you cooking?"

Um. Are They?

Nope.

I looked in my fridge and asked, "Who ate all the Chinese food leftover?"

They pointed to one another.

"There's no meat left in the house. It's all cooked and you've eaten it all," I say. "Have you ever had grilled peanut butter sandwiches?"

Nada.

Bread. Peanut butter. butter. A stove. A pan. Pretzels. Apples. Dinner.

They hated it. They were disappointed. I did have ice-cream so I gave that to them, too.

It's Friday. Dudes, do you not know what it took to get to this night? And Kanye, do you not know that pizza is the saving grace of American households? Why do you not eat it, dude? You're killing me.

I did take out hamburger for tomorrow. I'm also proud of the food they've received for the last 3 weeks, but at some point, one has to throw in the towel. It's called exhaustion. I'm D to the O to the N to the E.

(Cheese and crackers. Cheese and crackers. Cheese and crackers).

And sleep.