How Many Years 'Til Retirement?

Things I had to say today:

"You have to fill the whole bubble!"

"Stop making bubble smiley faces!!!"

"You spelled your name wrong."

"You are eleven...you cannot have been born in 2004."

"That's a pen!!! You can't have a pen!!! Who's job was it to check for pens??? We got a pen over here!!! Get the pen!!!!!!! Get it !!!!! Number two pencils only!!!"

"I agree with you. This is stupid. But the president says you have to, so just do it."

"No, you can't have coffee. You are awake enough. It will stunt your growth, make your teeth brown and you will spill it then have to do all the bubbles again. Plus, I'll get in trouble. And I don't want to share the coffee. I need it more than you do"


I love administering the Maine Educational Assessment. I love it almost as much as the kids love taking it. (I am rolling my eyes to the point of actual eyeball pain right now...) Just giving the directions takes nothing short of Herculean efforts in the areas of patience and willingness to repeat one's self. The actual test is endless and not really geared towards the students with whom I work. If the comments of the day are to be believed then your faithful Sheep is nothing short of a serial student torturer who is mean and doesn't fully appreciate the trials of being a student in today's world. OK...this is all probably true. But that has nothing to do with the test, really. The government says I have to do that. The meanness and lack of appreciation I throw their way gratis.

It was a long day and I've a week more of this fun-filled activity to which I can look forward. And then I get to do it all again next week with the 6th graders. Because the future of this great nation depends upon whether the average student can find the corresponding bubbles that match the letters in their names.

Don't mind me. I'm just tired. Assessment is a part of the job. But there is a lot of it this month and if I'm this sick of it after day one, then I don't think I am going to hold up well for the remaining tests. I'm wondering how the state retirement system would react if I counted each test day as a year of teaching time. It feels like it...and I could be living the life of a sexy senior by the end of the month!

I could also work on some of the projects that I've got going on around here, fiber-wise. Having finished up the mystery fiber with great success, I popped some very yummy merino/silk blend on the wheel with little thought to when I might actually get to it. I've got a sock in the home stretch but no mate for it in the foreseeable future. Plus, I may or may not have been so foolish as to try casting on for yet another attempt at a sweater in order that I might break the Blog Sweater Curse before I shuffle off this mortal coil. There are not enough hours in the day...

I'll hang in there. A good night's sleep will do wonders for me, I'm sure. I will, once again, see the enormous benefits of standardized testing and the earning of a regular paycheck. Let's face it: the job does pay for the hobbies, after all.

But, those kids who can't quite seem to color in the right bubble to correctly spell their names are responsible for running the world as I descend into infirmity. No anxiety there at all...

SA