The first time I thought that I was fat was in college. I was 25, and the weight that caused me to go on my first diet is now my goal weight.

I don’t remember many details of that first diet beyond the fact that I ate every two hours in order to increase my metabolism. Specifically, I remember sitting at my desk at my graduate assistantship, eating a small bag of vanilla wafers.

I think I actually lost a little weight, despite my belief that cookies could serve as diet food. But I didn’t keep it off.

I have…

A couple of months ago, I submitted a story called “The Tiny Clown Who Thinks He Is Toothpaste” to be included in 42 Stories Anthology. I just got the acceptance email.

Here’s what’s absolutely fun about this anthology: each story is only 42 words, but each has a beginning, a middle, and an end. The title of each story contains about 42 characters, including spaces and punctuation.

I simply couldn’t resist the challenge.

Oh, and it pays: 42 cents. Winners can choose to donate their money to United Through Reading. I don’t honestly know what that is, but it sounds…

Ever since my twin sister’s appendix went bad and had to be forcibly removed from her body, I’ve just been waiting to be betrayed by my own appendix. In fact, I believe the purpose of the appendix is to add drama to our lives, a minor villain just waiting to cause a bit of conflict.

It hasn’t happened yet. My appendix has been quiet and well-behaved. Still, I don’t trust it, and I have paid hundreds of dollars in medical bills to prove my distrust. You see, every now and then, I’ll start experiencing persistent abdominal pain. Eventually, I convince…

I used to be an avid reader — I read a wide variety of books, about 80 of them a year. I’d often alternate between fiction and nonfiction, literary and fluff, serious and funny. I read Stephen King and Anne Tyler, Cormac McCarthy and Ray Bradbury. Janet Evanovich and Dean Koontz. Mary Roach and Jenny Lawson. I was always reading at least one book — sometimes two or three.

That was before my anxiety started getting bad. I’ve had anxiety before, off and on, but I don’t think it ever impacted my life as much or for as long as…

I have spent hours of my life watching students take the ACT, hours that I will never get back. The ACT, as you know, purports to measure a student’s college readiness. Specifically, it’s supposed to predict how successful they will be during their first semester of college. It has also been used to judge whether or not the teachers who teach these students completely suck at life.

I’m pretty sure it doesn’t actually measure either of these things. Also, my cats assure me that I don’t suck — because I have thumbs and have mastered the art of opening cans…

One year, I had my students play a game on the first day so that I could learn their names: they were to say their name and an adjective that started with the same letter. The next student repeated the first student’s name and adjective, and then said their own. The third student repeated both the first and second students’ names and then their own. For example, I’m shy Sheila and he’s joking Josh and she’s magnificent Madison.

One boy introduced himself as disrespectful Daniel. He wasn’t wrong.

Fortunately, by that time, I had a lot of teaching experience in…

My father is panting like a fish.

For the last month, we’ve been trying to figure out what it means that he’s lost 40 pounds, that he can’t sleep at night, that he can’t get warm — even sitting outside in ninety-degree weather. His speech slurs and his eyes glaze. He cries, and we cry with him, turning away and wiping our eyes.

I don’t know this man. He is only a dry husk of the strong father I knew. Last night, he cried out for help just as I was about to go to bed. I went into his…