Last Wednesday, in a cold-induced stupor yet needing comfort foods, I went to the local Thriftway. It is the hub of island life, as I have mentioned ad nauseum.

Teacher types tend to visit early in the morning, right at 8am when the store opens. Fewer chances of meeting up with students, or with parents who want to discuss 47 things about their kids that would be more appropriately discussed in your classroom or office, in private. Teachers avoid going to the Thriftway on weekends. Summer weekends mean kids, parents AND tourists, a lethal combination.

Before I got into the store, I saw the unmistakable van of a teacher and her husband. I said hi to Husband in the bakery aisle, which is the first aisle in the store if you begin from the left, which you must, given the floor arrangement and location of the checkouts. You are immediately routed through the Expensive Bread department, then through Bakery, Deli, Hot Case and Frou Frou Cheeses.

I looked to the right, along the front of all the aisles, down that long no-man's land between the end caps and the check out counters. There was Teacher D from the presschool. I didn't want to avoid her, but I needed to head toward Overpriced Precious Meats.

There I met Zelda, high-school teacher recently returned from a trip abroad. Short interaction, me clearly ill, her clearly wanting to remain healthy. She asked, "So, do you feel relieved that you don't have to go back to school tomorrow with everyone else?"

It gave me pause. Excellent pause.

I hadn't even thought about what day was back-to-school day for the teachers. I'm so into what I'm doing now that I HADN'T EVEN REALIZED when I would have been going back to work.

I didn't see any other teacher types as I finished my shopping, floating down the aisles, high on my new life.