johnsonboy

The Worst Day Fishing is Better Than The Most Mediocre Day Sitting Around Doing Nothing

Today as I was walking to the newspaper office at school, I heard my name from down the hall. It was one of the teachers, talking to someone from the administration.
They were happy, so I went in to find out what was going on. A few weeks ago, the school district put together an annual report. They printed up a handsome brochure with a little sample of each school. For my school, they included a stanza from one of my poems, which was in last year's literary magazine.
That's a pretty nice thing and I was happy about it, but today I found out that the person who made the decision to do that goes crazy over that poem. She walks around reciting it, or talks about it a lot, or something. At least to some degree.
It was a really nice thing to hear.

So I went back to the computer to work on my page, when someone else walked in with a bouquet of flowers. They were made of paper towels twisted into long stems, with rose-shaped bloosoms marked in red ink or felt pen. They were carefully wrapped in bundles of green-inked paper towel. amazingly realistic considering what they're made from.
The bouquet was wrapped in newspaper, (with a big I Heart U on the side) and there was a folded sheet of legal-sized notebook paper for a card. It said : "So Mr. Dale Horror-scope writer. Did your Horror-scope predict this?" It was signed with a heart and a very pretty and unusual name. Also, the flowers smell beautiful. someone used very nice perfume on them.
Nothing has made me feel this nice in a long time.