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 3rd 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.