Seriously. I don't know how they do it. I cannot fathom how people teach elementary school. What is wrong with them? Are they just super-mutant multi-taskers who are gluttons for punishment?
I can barely get through the day without stamping my foot in frustration. "Just leave me alone for FIVE minutes!" That's what I'd like to say. But I don't. I shove aside whatever vital paperwork I was in the middle of, just to respond to:
"Do we need our books?" ('book check today' is written on the board above the assignement)
"Hello, bestest friend? Aren't you going to talk to me? Don't you like me anymore? I just said hello!"
"Can I put the doorstop out? Like you do? Kick it under the edge? Really? I can?"
"Why is my chair messed up? Who messed up my chair? What was going on in here last hour?"
"It stinks in here. What's that smell?"
"It's hot. Why is it so hot in here?"
"I won't be here tomorrow. What are we doing? Can I have it?"
"You won't be here either? Where are you going? Why?"
"Here's your check stub." (that was a staffer from the office)
"What does 'show word count' mean? What? I have to count my words? How am I going to do that?"
Yeah. How in the world do those elems deal with a bunch of loose popcorn kernels popping all about? And mine aren't even popcorn. More like slow-roasted nuts. It drives me crazy
CraziER.
3 comments:
We drink. A lot. (We even drink after school.)
Sometimes my principal walks by and the blender in my classroom in whirring, which only means once thing: the level of my margarita has gotten dangerously low...)
Ooops. I meant "one" and not "once."
(I guess that means I need to rehydrate...)
Sioux,
First the safe full of dry erase markers, now a margarita machine. This disparity between districts must be rectified. Forthwith!
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