The first week of camp is done, and I can't explain how much I love what I do. Sure, I'm making pennies an hour and working at least fifty hours a week, but I feel like I'm getting to do my job, not having to do it. This week involved getting hit in the face more than I ever have, meeting a lot of parents (which is kind of terrifying), dancing to Steven Curtis Chapman every day, and constantly hearing the funniest things from little kids.
The kids don't think that me and Becca are dating, which is unusual and nice, but they do think I'm in love with Faith and/or Blake, neither of who still work at Morton. I took a survey of several kids, and the average guess of my age is 33. Some of them completely understand that that would make me older than their parents, but they still refuse to believe I'm only twenty. In the words of Matt, the cutest six year old in the world, "You can't be twenty! Look at your beard!"
I was about to say something about how tired I am, but then I read my Jone's soda cap. It says, "Your silence at this time is important," so I'll keep my mouth shut. I have nothing to be negative about. I'm so blessed I can't handle it.
January Wedding just came on in Eli's, which has one of my favorite opening lines.
She keeps it simple, and I am thankful for her kind of lovin, because it's simple.
The Avett Brothers are geniuses.
Speaking of opening lines, the beginning of To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf is genius. The first paragraph has a sentence that is eleven lines long followed by one that has five words.
I just finished The Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell, bringing my summer book list up to 18, not counting the three I'm currently reading. Only Malcolm Gladwell can write a whole chapter on Sesame Street and Blues Clues and have me captivated.
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