Ka-Boom

It was such a quiet morning in the land of elementary school education.  There were any number of opportunities for things to go horribly awry.  But they just never did.  We survived the school-wide spelling bee championship assembly.  The classes during which I have had to be called to remove unruly little urchins were conducted without incident.  There was an air of peace about my world that hasn't been in play since before the holidays.  Life was good.

Everything would have been fine if I weren't such a non-superstitious idiot.

I made the grievous error of commenting on our good fortune to my Cheerful Teaching Assistant.  I allowed that we must be the finest examples of teacherly skill to ever stroll the halls of an institution of learning.  I celebrated with the consumption of pretzel sticks from the kids' snack cabinet.  I even got all fancy and put them in a coffee filter rather than simply snarfing them straight from the bag like I usually do.

By 1:00, Karma had taken note of my glaring error in judgement and set to putting things to rights.  Things didn't just fall apart.  They literally detonated in a series of explosions both small and large for the remainder of the afternoon and the culprits ranged in age from child to full-grown-should-know-better-than-to-cross-me-adulthood.  The final blast was a real coup for Karma.  Karma did a fine job of making its point regarding my tendency to get a little cocky about my teaching ability.  None of it's bloggable given my responsible nature when it comes to children and their rights to privacy and all.  Let's just say I was busy...

When I presented myself in the Principal's office during the last hour of the fifth grade school day, he asked if I'd read my email.  He said that there were one or two issues he wanted to make sure he'd put on my radar.  I said:

Whatever you've got, I can trump.  Why don't you have a seat?

He sat.  I trumped.  Very large manuals concerning school policy were dragged from their respective shelves and the dust blown off their covers.  Outcomes were discussed.  Notes were taken.  Phone calls were made.  Things continued to get more and more stupid, finally culminating in the Principal and The Sheep standing in the hallway, utterly flummoxed by the sheer magnitude of the dumbness of it all and able to do nothing save stare into space with mouths agape.  

It's all well and good for him.  He's retiring this year and getting the school named after him. I have to come back and maybe, if I'm lucky, get a urinal in the boys' restroom dedicated to me.  

I have a headache.  The kind that over-the-counter pain medications only poke at half-heartedly and are then forced to walk away from in defeat.  It seemed almost like punishment to stop at the store on the way home and see if I might be able to locate one last skein of the yarn I need to finish The Too Big Baby Sweater.  Karma had spoken.  It was time to call it a day.  Except I couldn't help but give it a try.  I'm nothing if not a cockeyed optimist.

Thankfully, it seems that Karma was called away later in the afternoon to go torture some other poor, hapless soul.  I managed to avoid its unforgiving gaze for ten minutes.  Sometimes, a Sheep catches a break.  

There was one skein left.  I bought it.  I brought it home along with a pre-cooked turkey breast. (a review of the diet over the last few weeks showed a marked lack of protein and a possible cause of today's headache) There may also have been one or two snack cakes involved in the shopping but I'm not going to commit one way or another on that.  Tonight, The Big, Fluffy Kitty and I dined on turkey and she is helping me to knit the rest of the baby sweater.  We shall not speak of this day again.  

Karma might hear.

Let's look at something pretty cool, shall we?  Even on the worst of days, a little bison goes a long way towards making one remember why one has a job in the first place.  Sure, teaching the children is a noble thing and all that gobble-de-gook.  But a career comes with a paycheck and that's how one pays for being in the Wooly Wonka Exotic Fibers Club.  I gave myself a membership as a 42nd birthday gift to my favorite person who lives here and never before have I gifted myself so thoughtfully.  Months and months of packages full of fibers I never, ever would have thought to try...that's pretty sweet!

  

Here's that bison I was telling you about...I'm such a good giver of gifts!

Thursday, even if it's a bad one, is still the first sign of the weekend to come.  And I'm looking forward to mine with great enthusiasm.  Or fatigue.  I know it's one of those.  If anyone needs us, me 'n my headache will just be hanging here on the couch...

Hiding from Karma.

SA