Maybe I've mentioned that my planning period has been changed to 2nd hour this year. Which is pretty much the worst time ever for me. Some people like it, because they have a chance to prepare for the day. I, on the other hand, like to be caught up for the day. I want all of my papers graded, and the next day's materials laid out before I leave school. So 2nd hour doesn't do much for me. I can get some advance planning done, but the papers that pile up through the day, in need of a good gradin', have to wait until after school, or some spare minutes while my class works on an assignment.
Chief among my complaints of the 2nd hour plan time is the lack of a spare moment to attend to bodily functions. I can go before school. I can go at the end of my plan time. I can go at lunch. But then it's a four-hour wait until I can go again. Which is possible if I want to restrict liquids all through the day. And dehydrate myself.
Mondays are especially hazardous. I have duty. Before AND after school. This week, I headed in from afternoon duty and made a pit stop at the faculty women's restroom, housed inside the teacher workroom. I had barely sat down to do my business when suddenly there came a tapping. As of someone strongly rapping, rapping at the chamber door. Ah, distinctly I remember...
Oops! For a moment there, I was deep inside that Simpson's episode where Bart shows up at Homer's chamber door as a raven with a boy's head.
I heard voices, then silence. Upon vacating my throne, I stepped out to find Mabel, my teaching bud, awaiting entrance to the chamber. I asked who had been tap tap tapping. Twas the Master Schedule Maker, she sang. Like a canary. Not a raven.
Which was sweet, poetic justice. Because just this once, Master Schedule Maker had to hold it until an opportune time presented itself for the performance of bodily functions.