Remember when I asked that we make it through the last week of school without any more COVID high jinks? Well. I was getting ready to head off into town to take class and maybe watch a movie on my suddenly plan-free Christmas when I got a text from Yana. “One of the fifth graders tested positive. You will need to get a COVID test.” That would be my third COVID test in a week, and my sixth since November. The irony was that I didn’t actually teach that fifth grader because I had to miss the first two periods at my travel school while waiting on COVID test results…

Here I am at midnight typing on my old tablet. In a rerun episode of my younger years, I have been struck by a period of insomnia. When I was in elementary school, I spent hours every night waiting for sleep to come. Like a rat that’s sussed out the trap, it never did. Every night it took me nearly two hours to fall asleep, or more– and this was before the age of smartphones. There was nothing keeping me awake save my own body clock. Later, when I was a bit older, I would sneak into the den, pour myself a bowl of bacon bits, and watch Iron Chef…

On Saturday I had to get a COVID test. Last Sunday I had to get a COVID test. Two weeks before that I had a test, and a week before that, you guessed it, I had a test. This week I thought I might have finally escaped the streak of bad luck but I was wrong. “Did you see the emergency alert today? If you went to this cafe you have to get a test. One of the employees tested positive.” As I had to drive from Busan back to Jinhae for the test on Saturday, and then cancel my dinner plans to quarantine at home for 18 hours for…

Last weekend over dinner, Helen proposed setting me up on a blind date with her personal trainer. “Not to brag but the last two couples I set up got married,” she bragged. I’m willing to try anything once, and at least these people have been vetted by someone I know. “Sure,” I agreed. And then, of course, who did we run into while leaving the restaurant? “This is my PT,” Helen said, gripping tightly onto my arm as if we had been drinking alcohol rather than coffee. She gestured to a trio of men. “Hi,” he said, in a cute way I didn’t expect to come from someone 6’4” and…

With the new and unpredictable threat of omicron, my plans have yet again been tossed like a salad. Will the temporary quarantine be extended? Will this stamp out deadlier strains? Will I get to travel again? Will Elon Musk shave that terrible thing off his head? I can’t put all my hopes into one basket though I desperately want to think the end is near. Imagine, seeing my family! A weekend trip to Thailand! Running without a mask! People watching in cafes! Seeing the faces of my students! I had sixth grade today and concluded, without the persuasion of 6-5, that I love my sixth graders so much and will…