So I been trying to figure out, now that my commute schedule has shifted somewhat, what the exact relationship between the older gentleman who rolly-polies his way to the M60 each morning from about five houses down around or just before 7 with his cheerful taller but not tall teenish Asian boi. They are both headed the same, though that time is still odd, and no longer can I follow them, as I am Queens-only these days, but I am not optimistic about the truth.

Kendo has been my mind a lot--I find myself practicing men at odd times.

Today was strange: I was a little grumpy at the beginning of class but soon felt better. I have buried myself under a deep pile of paperwork I have myself generated, but it shows that I care. The next two days are full days, which only means three classes, but is somewhat new to me, though thankfully I am giving a quiz at some point, so it won't be so bad, I'm sure.

I ran into randomly today a fat ex-student of mine from two years ago, at my first shut-down school. We caught up and I learned juicy bits, and it was odd, to see her somewhat more grown up, but still not quite, and yet while not pivoting on having seen me, somehow I am a part of a her history, if only when I am around. So there is hope, and it makes me miss that first school all the more.

Seminar today was excellent, even though I am constantly butting up against other math teachers. But I realize that the most important virtue is patience--it will take a long time to budge the system, and it might begin with one school with one grade and one teacher per subject area, but with time and patience, anything can happen. The plan tomorrow is to watch my corridor teacher teach his advanced class. I will be polite.