Cut my first class the other day and found skipping to be a great joy, but also an utter disappointment.
It was the day of my schools health fair, and after realizing that I had absolutely no desire to take a zumba class or learn the health risks of tattooing, my friend Lyd and I chose to make a pilgrimage to Booster Juice.
Here’s what killed me: It was so easy! I expected to have to covertly sneak through the side door, army-crawling through the bushes, and pushing my car out of earshot before starting up the engine. Instead, we walked out the front door and drove away.
It was a nice afternoon though. We sat out in the sun drinking our smoothies, lying on the cushiony lawn in front of the strip mall. We gossiped and sunbathed and even napped, which surprised me. Cutting class turned out to be relaxing and worry free.
I didn’t even have to worry about the automated your-child-missed-one-or-more-periods-of-school-today phone call. By the time I got home, my dear older brother had already deleted it from the answering machine for me.
So another ditch-day soon? Maybe. But more likely I’ll spend the last ten days of school mooning over a certain boy…