Yesterday I went to lunch with a friend. (That's the kind of simple sentence I'd tell my kids not to write, but luckily, I don't have a teacher on my back!) I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it definitely wasn't the outcome I got: a challenging discussion about some of my biggest weaknesses and assignments to report back on. Yes, she gave me homework.
So because I'm me, and I do what people ask, I got started. Part one was pretty easy: make a list of the things God has done in my life this year. I definitely had plenty to say! 2009 has been difficult in many ways, but it's also been amazing. I've learned so much about who God is and who that makes me, and I've been blessed in more ways than I could ever deserve. Although I wouldn't have said it along the way, this has been a fabulous year.
Part two was quite a bit harder: share the list... with more than one person. I REALLY didn't want to do that part, but then I got an email link to her reflections on her year and absolutely loved reading what she'd written... then decided that maybe I should stop hiding and share some of what God has done in my life.
Which leads to... my list (most of it anyway)!
1. He gave me new friends in my Thursday night Bible study at a time when I was feeling really alone. My small group rocks, and I'm excited to start our second year together!
2. He gave me the courage to trust them with my story and proved me wrong when they weren't scared away by my past and continued to love and encourage me.
3. He used my story and gifts to influence another woman in that group and encourage her to pursue recovery.
4. He taught me about the true meaning of joy and helped me begin to recognize my lack of trust in Him and how that impacts my life daily.
5. He blessed me with my 5:30 Rocks girls (and grown-up friends!) who've taught me more than I possibly could have taught them. I finally found my place at Watermark.
6. He moved me out of my kindergarten comfort zone into a job where I have the emotional reserves left to face some of my deeper hurts and gave me the peace I needed to make it through the transition.
7. He perfectly orchestrated the series of events (over the past four years) that led to a precious little boy being in my homeroom this year where he knows he's wanted, and I can love and encourage him daily.
8. He gave me grace and wisdom as I wrestled with my beliefs about His goodness and character and surrounded me with people who were willing to push me forward and speak truth into that struggle. It hurt at the time, but now I'm infinitely more secure in what I believe and why I believe it. It's real rather than just being the words I always said.
9. He helped me search deep into my heart and gave me the strength and courage to begin to face the hurts I'd hidden so deeply even I couldn't see them anymore.
10. He brought me through the fall without falling into my typical deep depression. Super exciting!!!
11. He taught me about the power of memorizing scripture to combat my anxiety- being transformed by the renewing of my mind. :-)
12. He used Haley to be the tangible representation of His grace that I'm always asking for... the person I can't push away and whose love I will never be able to "earn."
13. He's showing me that I can trust Him and trust myself and don't have to seek validation from others.
14. He's continuing to move my focus and priorities more toward His own and away from my obsession with body image and performance.
15. He's helping me to daily accept that He designed me perfectly to bring Him joy, loves me unconditionally just the way I am, and can be trusted to always do what's best for me, even if it doesn't feel like it at the time. When I really stop to think about the magnitude of that truth, I always end up crying. He loves ME.
It's been a good year. I almost doubt that 2010 can compete...
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Sunday, November 29, 2009
reframing
Over the past few weeks, I've had lots of free time, so I decided to spend some time reading a blog I previously read only occasionally... The Happiness Project.
This idea of creating happiness is pretty foreign to me, but one suggestion in particular intrigued me: reframing your thoughts about things you dislike. I'm VERY familiar with that concept, although I'd never used it in quite that way, so I decided to give it a shot. As it turns out, reframing has actually worked pretty well when it comes to mundane chores. I despise cleaning, but telling myself that I enjoy it does give me a better attitude (an attitude that's kept our house clean for almost a month). It's working far less well in improving my attitude about work. Perhaps that's a sign...
I've been amazed how much this one small thing has influenced my day to day life. Reframing my attitude about cleaning has resulted in a much cleaner, more ordered house without the same level of frustration I used to feel. Having a consistently clean and at least somewhat organized house calms my anxiety more than I ever imagined, and less anxiety makes the rest of life SO much easier. Of course, we'll see how long this lasts. I've never been one to actually stick with chores.
Anyhow, back to school tomorrow, and I'm dreading it as always... gotta find a way to reframe that thought more successfully (at least until June!).
This idea of creating happiness is pretty foreign to me, but one suggestion in particular intrigued me: reframing your thoughts about things you dislike. I'm VERY familiar with that concept, although I'd never used it in quite that way, so I decided to give it a shot. As it turns out, reframing has actually worked pretty well when it comes to mundane chores. I despise cleaning, but telling myself that I enjoy it does give me a better attitude (an attitude that's kept our house clean for almost a month). It's working far less well in improving my attitude about work. Perhaps that's a sign...
I've been amazed how much this one small thing has influenced my day to day life. Reframing my attitude about cleaning has resulted in a much cleaner, more ordered house without the same level of frustration I used to feel. Having a consistently clean and at least somewhat organized house calms my anxiety more than I ever imagined, and less anxiety makes the rest of life SO much easier. Of course, we'll see how long this lasts. I've never been one to actually stick with chores.
Anyhow, back to school tomorrow, and I'm dreading it as always... gotta find a way to reframe that thought more successfully (at least until June!).
Sunday, October 25, 2009
any age but this one
As school years go, this one is still going quite well... a pretty sad commentary on how the previous six years have gone.
4th grade is still easier, and I love my kids. However, teaching the same lesson over and over all day long is almost painful. By the time I get to the last class I'm sick of reading the same book and saying the same words. Yes, the lesson gets better each time I do it, but the basic content is the same. I'm also often frustrated with the attitude that our school scores well on state tests, so we don't need to learn new, research-based teaching methods. We're totally stuck in the 80s. Perfect example: I had to call someone to remove a set of textbooks from my classroom from when I was IN 4th grade. I recognized the book because it was MY basal reader (not literally my copy, but the same book).
I haven't been writing much either which is ironic considering that I now devote my entire day to teaching writing. I'd even convinced myself that I no longer enjoyed writing. Then I realized the truth: I don't enjoy consistently writing for an audience of fourth graders.
I spend my days teaching children that their lives matter, and they do. But, when I look at my life and at the things I value enough to write about, my things aren't things nine year olds want or need to hear. They aren't even, for the most part, happy, encouraging stories. I need to write about how different being grown up is than I thought it would be and how I feel so left behind. I need to tell the story of sitting heartbroken in a cold parking lot at 1:00 am while the two women I was with sat on either side of me talking about the joys of pregnancy and newborn babies. I need to verbalize all the ways God has made himself visible to me during a really difficult season of doubt. I do NOT need to spend hours writing the stories of riding Disney's latest rollercoaster or dressing up as Snow White for Halloween... but those are the stories I have to write.
I'm ready for this life stage to be over. The current mentor text for my students is Eleven by Sandra Cisneros, and it's outstanding. The little girl in the story, Rachel, talks about wishing she was any age but eleven because her eleventh birthday was such a painful day. I cried the first time I read through the story because I relate on more levels than I'd like. Not only do I know exactly what it feels like to be a child who desperately wishes to escape her own reality, but lately I regularly wish I was any age but twenty-eight. Actually, not any age, but quite a bit older. Past the point where every few days another friend announces a pregnancy and I feel jealousy and sadness instead of the happiness I want to feel. Past this age where having children is all that anyone my own age can seem to talk about. Past twenty-eight and maybe all the way to fifty. I don't want to take any chances.
4th grade is still easier, and I love my kids. However, teaching the same lesson over and over all day long is almost painful. By the time I get to the last class I'm sick of reading the same book and saying the same words. Yes, the lesson gets better each time I do it, but the basic content is the same. I'm also often frustrated with the attitude that our school scores well on state tests, so we don't need to learn new, research-based teaching methods. We're totally stuck in the 80s. Perfect example: I had to call someone to remove a set of textbooks from my classroom from when I was IN 4th grade. I recognized the book because it was MY basal reader (not literally my copy, but the same book).
I haven't been writing much either which is ironic considering that I now devote my entire day to teaching writing. I'd even convinced myself that I no longer enjoyed writing. Then I realized the truth: I don't enjoy consistently writing for an audience of fourth graders.
I spend my days teaching children that their lives matter, and they do. But, when I look at my life and at the things I value enough to write about, my things aren't things nine year olds want or need to hear. They aren't even, for the most part, happy, encouraging stories. I need to write about how different being grown up is than I thought it would be and how I feel so left behind. I need to tell the story of sitting heartbroken in a cold parking lot at 1:00 am while the two women I was with sat on either side of me talking about the joys of pregnancy and newborn babies. I need to verbalize all the ways God has made himself visible to me during a really difficult season of doubt. I do NOT need to spend hours writing the stories of riding Disney's latest rollercoaster or dressing up as Snow White for Halloween... but those are the stories I have to write.
I'm ready for this life stage to be over. The current mentor text for my students is Eleven by Sandra Cisneros, and it's outstanding. The little girl in the story, Rachel, talks about wishing she was any age but eleven because her eleventh birthday was such a painful day. I cried the first time I read through the story because I relate on more levels than I'd like. Not only do I know exactly what it feels like to be a child who desperately wishes to escape her own reality, but lately I regularly wish I was any age but twenty-eight. Actually, not any age, but quite a bit older. Past the point where every few days another friend announces a pregnancy and I feel jealousy and sadness instead of the happiness I want to feel. Past this age where having children is all that anyone my own age can seem to talk about. Past twenty-eight and maybe all the way to fifty. I don't want to take any chances.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
one week down (almost)
Today was the 4th day of school, and all in all, this week hasn't been that bad. In fact, it's been the easiest first week of school ever. As it turns out, teaching kindergarten made my job far more exhausting than I realized. Compared to that, 4th grade is a breeze.
So since I'm settling in, I read the book Scaredy Squirrel to three of my classes today. I wish I had a copy at home because it's one of my absolute favorite books. The main character is a neurotic squirrel who's afraid of all sorts of absurd things. Green martians for instance. He's so terrified that he never leaves his tree. Retelling the story doesn't do it justice though... it's hilarious.
I love reading this book because I am SO like Scaredy Squirrel. He stays in his tree with his same nuts and same view because when he's there, life is predictable. If he ventured into "The Unknown" (a.k.a. the forest), he might run into green martians, after all. Totally rational. Yet, this is how I often do life. I convince myself that the unknown is so incredibly frightening that I end up missing out on things that would have been really cool. The sad part is that this is the brave version of me... I used to be completely paralyzed by my fear. Now it's just a pretty major annoyance.
This week's adventure into the unknown has turned out a lot better than I expected. To be fair, there have been hard parts. My teammates are nice, but getting to know them has still been difficult for me (and will continue to be I'm sure). It's also been really hard watching my old friends still working together while I'm no longer a part. I still worry that I won't be good at this, although I worry much less than I did before Monday. Most of what I feared has actually happened, but nothing has happened to the extreme extent that I imagined. Hard, yes. Impossible, no.
I don't know how the rest of the year will go. While I am enjoying the maturity of nine year olds, I know I will end up missing things about my babies. It's a trade off. Big kids are far less emotionally draining because they don't need me every minute of every day, but they also don't curl up in my lap while I read. They can reason and understand my sarcastic humor, but they don't tackle me in the hall because they miss me SO MUCH that they just cannot function (yes, that happens pretty regularly). I watch the first graders walking in the hall and wonder what it will feel like next year when I don't know them, but that will have to wait for later.
For now, I'm trying to appreciate the fact that nothing horrible is happening in The Unknown today... those green martians are pretty dangerous, after all.
So since I'm settling in, I read the book Scaredy Squirrel to three of my classes today. I wish I had a copy at home because it's one of my absolute favorite books. The main character is a neurotic squirrel who's afraid of all sorts of absurd things. Green martians for instance. He's so terrified that he never leaves his tree. Retelling the story doesn't do it justice though... it's hilarious.
I love reading this book because I am SO like Scaredy Squirrel. He stays in his tree with his same nuts and same view because when he's there, life is predictable. If he ventured into "The Unknown" (a.k.a. the forest), he might run into green martians, after all. Totally rational. Yet, this is how I often do life. I convince myself that the unknown is so incredibly frightening that I end up missing out on things that would have been really cool. The sad part is that this is the brave version of me... I used to be completely paralyzed by my fear. Now it's just a pretty major annoyance.
This week's adventure into the unknown has turned out a lot better than I expected. To be fair, there have been hard parts. My teammates are nice, but getting to know them has still been difficult for me (and will continue to be I'm sure). It's also been really hard watching my old friends still working together while I'm no longer a part. I still worry that I won't be good at this, although I worry much less than I did before Monday. Most of what I feared has actually happened, but nothing has happened to the extreme extent that I imagined. Hard, yes. Impossible, no.
I don't know how the rest of the year will go. While I am enjoying the maturity of nine year olds, I know I will end up missing things about my babies. It's a trade off. Big kids are far less emotionally draining because they don't need me every minute of every day, but they also don't curl up in my lap while I read. They can reason and understand my sarcastic humor, but they don't tackle me in the hall because they miss me SO MUCH that they just cannot function (yes, that happens pretty regularly). I watch the first graders walking in the hall and wonder what it will feel like next year when I don't know them, but that will have to wait for later.
For now, I'm trying to appreciate the fact that nothing horrible is happening in The Unknown today... those green martians are pretty dangerous, after all.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
starting over... again
Today is the last day of summer.
For a variety of reasons, I'm dreading the first day of work. I think that's relatively normal (it takes a special person to WANT to go back to work after vacation), but for me it's a little out of the ordinary. Usually by the end of the summer I've gotten excited, so for the past couple of weeks I've waited for the excitement to kick in. It didn't happen at my late summer trainings. It didn't happen when I started preparing my room or when I saw my friends. I'm down to less than a day... it still hasn't happened. It isn't going to, and this morning I finally realized why: if I made a list of things I like, not a single one would apply here. I like consistency and familiarity and knowing the answers. As of tomorrow, I'll have none of those things. Like a kindergartner on the first day of school, I'm starting from scratch.
I've made a lot of changes over my six years of teaching, but in every instance, there was one safe thing about school for me to grab on to... in recent years, being an expert in the kinder curriculum. This year there's nothing. Even if I like it, there's basically no chance I'll actually be good at teaching 4th grade the first year. It took three years in kindergarten before I really felt competent, and that was an age group I had experience with. My teammates may be the best ever, but I still have to get through the awkward beginning of three new relationships (perhaps the thing I hate most in the world). Everyone says I'll love 4th grade, and I may... but right now it's all a giant unknown.
So, this morning I was asked if it was possible to be joyful in the midst of the uncertainty. The obvious correct answer is yes. In reality, it's very difficult. The one definition that's stuck with me out of all the character traits I've taught this year was the one for joy: the overflow of peace that comes from trusting God. Joy inevitably comes back to trust. Do I trust that God's plan is best? Yes. 100%. The problem is that whether or not it's ultimately best, I've come to associate God's plan for my life with misery. That doesn't exactly breed joy.
Is this an opportunity for growth? Yes, a great one I'm sure. A push out of my comfort zone into what will undoubtedly be a more challenging job. A chance to relinquish some of the control I so desperately grasp for and accept that God will always be the only constant in my life. I see no way around growth. But what has happened the last ten times I've had an opportunity for growth? Something incredibly painful... broken relationships, difficult realizations about myself, loneliness. The final outcome has always been in some way healing and rewarding, but the road is rough. How do I look at a year that, in many ways, will certainly be painful and still feel joy?
I don't know the answer. Well, I can quote plenty of applicable verses, but I don't know what that looks like in my life. I guess I get to start growing now though because the only thought that's getting me through the day is that God doesn't change. No matter how alone or confused or out of control I feel, what I know of Him and His character will always be the same.
This year He's the one thing left to grab on to.
For a variety of reasons, I'm dreading the first day of work. I think that's relatively normal (it takes a special person to WANT to go back to work after vacation), but for me it's a little out of the ordinary. Usually by the end of the summer I've gotten excited, so for the past couple of weeks I've waited for the excitement to kick in. It didn't happen at my late summer trainings. It didn't happen when I started preparing my room or when I saw my friends. I'm down to less than a day... it still hasn't happened. It isn't going to, and this morning I finally realized why: if I made a list of things I like, not a single one would apply here. I like consistency and familiarity and knowing the answers. As of tomorrow, I'll have none of those things. Like a kindergartner on the first day of school, I'm starting from scratch.
I've made a lot of changes over my six years of teaching, but in every instance, there was one safe thing about school for me to grab on to... in recent years, being an expert in the kinder curriculum. This year there's nothing. Even if I like it, there's basically no chance I'll actually be good at teaching 4th grade the first year. It took three years in kindergarten before I really felt competent, and that was an age group I had experience with. My teammates may be the best ever, but I still have to get through the awkward beginning of three new relationships (perhaps the thing I hate most in the world). Everyone says I'll love 4th grade, and I may... but right now it's all a giant unknown.
So, this morning I was asked if it was possible to be joyful in the midst of the uncertainty. The obvious correct answer is yes. In reality, it's very difficult. The one definition that's stuck with me out of all the character traits I've taught this year was the one for joy: the overflow of peace that comes from trusting God. Joy inevitably comes back to trust. Do I trust that God's plan is best? Yes. 100%. The problem is that whether or not it's ultimately best, I've come to associate God's plan for my life with misery. That doesn't exactly breed joy.
Is this an opportunity for growth? Yes, a great one I'm sure. A push out of my comfort zone into what will undoubtedly be a more challenging job. A chance to relinquish some of the control I so desperately grasp for and accept that God will always be the only constant in my life. I see no way around growth. But what has happened the last ten times I've had an opportunity for growth? Something incredibly painful... broken relationships, difficult realizations about myself, loneliness. The final outcome has always been in some way healing and rewarding, but the road is rough. How do I look at a year that, in many ways, will certainly be painful and still feel joy?
I don't know the answer. Well, I can quote plenty of applicable verses, but I don't know what that looks like in my life. I guess I get to start growing now though because the only thought that's getting me through the day is that God doesn't change. No matter how alone or confused or out of control I feel, what I know of Him and His character will always be the same.
This year He's the one thing left to grab on to.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
it's been awhile...
Since I last posted in May, I've thought many times that I should write something then realized I had nothing to write about. Well, really I guess plenty of things have happened, but none of them seemed worth writing about in isolation. Now that summer is almost over, enough things have piled up.
Summer has been good, maybe the best since I started working, for many reasons. Obviously, it's nice to have two months off work, but usually by this point in the summer, I'm done. This year that hasn't happened. I've been busy with friends and activities, and really, I haven't had more than two days in a row without plans. That's a first. I did an amazing summer Bible study where I was blessed to be in an adult small group with the mothers of the girls in my little girl small group. I joined a book club. I went swimming and played with my dog and read for hours on end. I haven't tied anyone else's shoe. It's been a refreshing break.
This week I completed a long standing baby step by taking the GRE. Most people would put off a test like that because of concerns about a low score, but not me. I put it off because of fear of doing well and where that would lead me. When I sat at the computer looking at my score, I knew I'd been right.
When I chose my major in college (almost ten years ago...), I based my decision mostly on ease. I mean, I love kids, but ultimately I chose teaching over another kid-friendly field because it would require the least academic effort and would produce the fastest result, as in no need for grad school. After living the first 18 years of my life as the textbook overachiever, I wanted a break, but the longer I've taught, the more I've regretted my decision and the more trapped I've felt. I wasn't qualified to do anything else, and at some point, I stopped believing I was even capable.
So, as I expected, my test score presented a dilemma: take the easy route through grad school too as I originally planned or take a more challenging route that would require more work but lead to a more desirable outcome. Had I scored poorly, I wouldn't have had an option, but I did well. It was fairly simple to tell myself the easy path was best before I had this tangible proof that I was selling myself short, but the instant I looked at the screen, I lost the tenuous hold I had on that lie.
I want to finish grad school with no regrets... knowing that I did the best I could rather than slacking off... and to that end, I've decided to start down the harder path, the one I should have started ten years ago. It's going to take longer and require taking a few prerequisites, but I know I'm making the right choice.
The next two weeks should be my least scheduled of the summer, and I'm looking forward to the down time. Unfortunately, after that school will start. Year seven. I never thought I'd teach this long, but at least now there's a light at the end of the tunnel.
Summer has been good, maybe the best since I started working, for many reasons. Obviously, it's nice to have two months off work, but usually by this point in the summer, I'm done. This year that hasn't happened. I've been busy with friends and activities, and really, I haven't had more than two days in a row without plans. That's a first. I did an amazing summer Bible study where I was blessed to be in an adult small group with the mothers of the girls in my little girl small group. I joined a book club. I went swimming and played with my dog and read for hours on end. I haven't tied anyone else's shoe. It's been a refreshing break.
This week I completed a long standing baby step by taking the GRE. Most people would put off a test like that because of concerns about a low score, but not me. I put it off because of fear of doing well and where that would lead me. When I sat at the computer looking at my score, I knew I'd been right.
When I chose my major in college (almost ten years ago...), I based my decision mostly on ease. I mean, I love kids, but ultimately I chose teaching over another kid-friendly field because it would require the least academic effort and would produce the fastest result, as in no need for grad school. After living the first 18 years of my life as the textbook overachiever, I wanted a break, but the longer I've taught, the more I've regretted my decision and the more trapped I've felt. I wasn't qualified to do anything else, and at some point, I stopped believing I was even capable.
So, as I expected, my test score presented a dilemma: take the easy route through grad school too as I originally planned or take a more challenging route that would require more work but lead to a more desirable outcome. Had I scored poorly, I wouldn't have had an option, but I did well. It was fairly simple to tell myself the easy path was best before I had this tangible proof that I was selling myself short, but the instant I looked at the screen, I lost the tenuous hold I had on that lie.
I want to finish grad school with no regrets... knowing that I did the best I could rather than slacking off... and to that end, I've decided to start down the harder path, the one I should have started ten years ago. It's going to take longer and require taking a few prerequisites, but I know I'm making the right choice.
The next two weeks should be my least scheduled of the summer, and I'm looking forward to the down time. Unfortunately, after that school will start. Year seven. I never thought I'd teach this long, but at least now there's a light at the end of the tunnel.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
she would be elastigirl...
This week is Teacher Appreciation Week at my school. The rest of the world celebrated two weeks ago, but, SURPRISE! We HAD to be different. Must be tradition...
Anyhow, this morning we were talking about things our schools had done in the past, and I remembered my absolute all time favorite: the "How well do you know your teacher?" quiz. Here are a few select answers from last year...
What is your teacher's favorite kind of music?
-quiet music
-puppy music
-Baa, Baa Black Sheep (THEIR favorite song)
What does your teacher do when she's not in school?
-She has to rest because the class is so wild. (Shockingly accurate!)
-thinks about us
-gets a substitute
When your teacher was a child, what did she want to be when she grew up?
-Miss America
-a ballerina
-a psychologist
If your teacher had only one wish, what would it be?
-a cake (obviously knew me well!)
-to be a superstar
-to lose a tooth
-to live where she works (if he ONLY knew...)
What is your teacher's favorite saying?
-I can change your folder in a heartbeat. (Ha!)
-Hang your backpacks up!
-May I have your attention, please?
-Get on the carpet!
-I love you, precious. (Aw...)
What is your teacher's favorite pastime?
-spending time with her students
-saying "You can't do that!" but really we can
-getting food while we're at specials
And the best of all...
If your teacher were a superhero, which one would she be and why?
-She would be Elastigirl on The Incredibles. She is tall, and it would be awesome if she could grab kids all the way across the room. She would even be able to get her lunch tray without leaving her desk.
Hilarious and free... and the best gift I've ever gotten.
Anyhow, this morning we were talking about things our schools had done in the past, and I remembered my absolute all time favorite: the "How well do you know your teacher?" quiz. Here are a few select answers from last year...
What is your teacher's favorite kind of music?
-quiet music
-puppy music
-Baa, Baa Black Sheep (THEIR favorite song)
What does your teacher do when she's not in school?
-She has to rest because the class is so wild. (Shockingly accurate!)
-thinks about us
-gets a substitute
When your teacher was a child, what did she want to be when she grew up?
-Miss America
-a ballerina
-a psychologist
If your teacher had only one wish, what would it be?
-a cake (obviously knew me well!)
-to be a superstar
-to lose a tooth
-to live where she works (if he ONLY knew...)
What is your teacher's favorite saying?
-I can change your folder in a heartbeat. (Ha!)
-Hang your backpacks up!
-May I have your attention, please?
-Get on the carpet!
-I love you, precious. (Aw...)
What is your teacher's favorite pastime?
-spending time with her students
-saying "You can't do that!" but really we can
-getting food while we're at specials
And the best of all...
If your teacher were a superhero, which one would she be and why?
-She would be Elastigirl on The Incredibles. She is tall, and it would be awesome if she could grab kids all the way across the room. She would even be able to get her lunch tray without leaving her desk.
Hilarious and free... and the best gift I've ever gotten.
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