I am shocked. Shocked that nothing really good happened to me today. Even Steven must still be on Christmas break. While he did not leave me a crap sandwich for sustenance while he's away, he left one of those Aunt Edna dog-pee sandwiches for my gustatory delight.
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IN GOOD NEWS...
I was headache free all day. That's a big bonus. Like a Kudos in my brown paper lunch sack.
My students were well-behaved and quiet and actually put forth good effort on their assignments. All except one class, but they are juniors, and just being able to spend fifty minutes in a closed room with them, breathing the same air, not ruffling any feathers, is considered a victory.
The teacher lunch table was rife with talk of retirement. There's going to be a tsunami of pensioners washed out of there in one spectacular event. Funny how the two young 'uns who are always bragging, "You're old enough to be my mom/dad/grandpa," were strangely subdued.
Kyocera made bail, and was without the prison stripes.
My parking lot duty went off without a hitch, without frostbite, without an incident.
A colleague let me go ahead of her in the bathroom line between sixth and seventh hour.
IN BAD NEWS...
I received another new student today. With a last name beginning with the second letter of the alphabet.
Upon arrival at school, with ten minutes to log in five times at my control center before I had to report to imminent duty...I discovered that Cus had lined up the twenty-five desks where they are most convenient for running a broom through them. Which means the straight, orderly rows had been expanded towards the back of the room so that nobody would be able to pass when students were sitting there. So I moved twenty-five desks back to their original positions, AND logged in five times before shipping out for duty. TRY THAT, U.S. Marine Corps! Mrs. Hillbilly Mom does more work before her day starts than most teachers do all day.
The people of Hillmomba have been driving like bats surging from the depths of Not-Heaven.
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Okay. Now it looks like I had an acceptable day. I was so sure it was going to be great, though. I suppose 6 out 9 ain't bad. Maybe a chubby guy named Pot Roast will do a song about it.
My most pinnacle of a moment came on Monday, when the kids each wrote a letter to me about what their "resolutions" were for themselves, the class, and me.
ReplyDeleteOne of my kids wrote that he'd like me to "try to be prettyer."
He is fresh out of luck on that one. But maybe I should stop dying my hair and stop putting on a smear of mascara and let my eyebrows go au naturel--then he'd appreciate the time-consuming efforts I DO make...
A Meatloaf fan? A Leave It to Beaver expert? An unbeatable Seinfeld-ian?
ReplyDeleteDoes your knowledge know no limits?
Sioux,
ReplyDeleteKids say the darnedest things! Baby steps. You might start by washing your hair in a regular bathtub or shower, and not the women's faculty bathroom sink. That dent on your head cannot be appealing.
Let's not forget my ER expertise. The show, not the facility, though I DO know my way around a duodenum or two.