Wee Small Hours of the Morning

In the wee small hours of the morning, Frank Sinatra was thinking about the girl he loved and how much he missed her. At 3am in the morning, I’m thinking:

1)   Why is this poison oak still spreading across my body three weeks later?

2)   Why are all the creams useless?

3)   Is it poison oak? If not, what?

4)   Can I get to Kaiser in the next two days and still teach my classes?

5)   Speaking of which, what am I doing with 3^rd grade today?

6)   When can I pack for my trip to New Orleans on Friday?

7)   Why is this jerk still in the White House?

8)   Should I watch the last show of seven seasons of The Good Wife tonight or tomorrow?

9)    Would I rather have poison oak or think about lost love?

10)                   What are the chances of me getting back to sleep? Scratch, scratch.