I’ve finished up the Papal encyclical Evangelium Vitae, and I’ve started Karl Barth’s Dogmatics in Outline. I’ve also picked up Eats, Shoots, and Leaves, a British humor book about punctuation, from the public library, so I’m not completely devoting myself to hard-hitting theology.
No real recollection of the content of my dream last night, but I do remember that it involved an indestructible devil-figure. He actually loaned me an anti-tank rocket launcher and let me fire it at his body at about five hundred yards. Didn’t even wrinkle his thousand dollar suit. I forget exactly what the devil wanted of me, but I’m sure I would have turned the gig down. Unless, of course, he just wanted to tempt me into firing a shoulder-launched antitank round. Then I’m screwed.
This will be my last week of subbing before six working days off from the kids–I’m taking over many of Cynthia’s hours at the library, and I’m looking forward to it. I’d trade thirty-student classes and bad videos for ignorant computer questions and parents who do their kids’ homework any old day of the week. But right now, it’s time to shower just in case a thirty-student class lacks an idjit to play the video tape.