So last night I went to bed to with a tickley throat. This morning I woke up with a sore one, and I went about my business all morning, making coffee for everyone, getting supplies ready, writing up the school announcement board, blah blah blah, it wasn't until about a half an hour before class was about to begin that I opened my mouth and said something to a co-worker.
"Good morning Alice, hows it going," Is what I thought I was going to say.
But when it came out it sounded like a 75 year old Jewish woman who smokes two packs a day say "Gawd Moinin' Dawhlin Hows it gowen," in a rhaspy, scratchy lady from the bronx sort of way. Believe you me I was just as surprised as Alice our secretary. I said I guess I lost my voice. And sure enough I did, BIG TIME.
The perplexing part is when you look down at your lesson plans for the week and try to re-write them with the condition that you won't really be able to talk. I looked up Laryngitis on the web and I have all the symptoms, and it didn't happen from smoking or drinking, rather, over use of the voice yesterday and the awesome ukulele jam session last night and maybe a little cold, and the only way to cure it is to try not to talk and keep hydrated.
So then I thought, how do you teach math with out talking, or Earth Science, better yet how do you teach PE with out a voice?
But somehow I did it. (Lets just say there was a whistle involved). I did talk though, I talked right through it, and now my voice is worse than it was this morning. Its all deep and rhaspy like a Ray LaMontagne song. What if I keep talking and I never get better, I can't even capitalize on the sweet rhaspy sound because ol Ray LaMontagne has totally completely cornered that musical genre. SO what will I do at the age of 26 sounding like a 75 year old Jewish lady from the bronx who smokes 45 Virginia Slims a day in her apartment of 7 cats? I guess I will have to find a cartoon voice over job for just such a character right?
The biggest lesson of the day is that I talk too much. I just need to shut the fudge up, and so I type now, because it takes no vocal prowess. And Ben Harper's own rhaspy goodness is filling my eardrums, and I'm about to go home and cook and dance and listen to Ben and Ray and wallow in my own Rhaspy isolated heaven. And although I'm alone, and it seems like an eon before I'm home in the bossom of washingtonian splendor and goodness, and I have a ton of useless shit to do, I'm simply gonna say something that was so famously coined by Tom Cruise in the film Risky Business (I've used this before)...
"Some Times You Just Got To Say F**k it" but I would like to add "and love your life anyway."