I am committed to this course of action enough to publish a dubious medical journal which reflects my own beliefs around health and nutrition.
Let's review the day in Wednesday Night Bullet Post format, 'kay?
*Even with the cooler temperatures, the staff in my school building are continuing to feel the pressure that seemed to come with the warmer days. We are giving what little goodness we have left to give to the students.
*To each other, we give naught but grief.
*I am being transferred to The Bad Job At The Middle School Where I Am Being Expected To Perform Miracles But Probably Won't.
*Hence, I can sort of sit on the outside of it all. But that doesn't necessarily mean that I don't get drawn in anyway...
*Look! I am an abysmal failure as a housewife from days of yore:
-44 As a 1930s wife, I am |
(snagged this one from Donna Lee)
*Best news I've had all day...
*For the record, most of the problems here are associated with my not being married at the moment.
*But, I still don't think I would have done very well even if I was sporting a ring...
*When I agreed to take the job over at the middle school and begin not performing miracles all over the place, it was with the understanding that I take The Cheerful Teaching Assistant with me.
*There were some tense moments, but I got what I wanted. We were happy.
*Following a series of administrative gymnastics far too complicated and convoluted to explain and the decision by my current director to just avoid me for a while, the agreement fell apart.
*My soon-to-be-director was less than thrilled to find herself stuck with the job of breaking the news to us this afternoon.
*I couldn't even be mad at New Boss Of Me. She got the shaft on this one.
*Otherwise, how would I have dealt with the loss of my Cheerful Teaching Assistant? I would have been sitting here eating cheese or broccoli or something.
*That is a lie. I don't have any broccoli.
*She is the yin to my yang. The left to my right. The purl to my knit. The straights to my circs. What drives me up a wall bothers her not. What makes her scream to the rooftops leaves me utterly calm. She gets my jokes and knows to just let me talk myself out when I need to verbally process something. She at least tries to make me eat my salads. We work together well and she is willing to go to the Bad Job At The Middle School cheerfully.
*So they are going to send her to the high school. This makes perfect sense.
*In Stupid World.
*I ate the whole candy bar in under a minute.
*I double-dog-dare a cranky colleague to try and engage me in a verbal snipe-fest tomorrow. I will burp stale chocolate fumes all over their stupid faces then waddle away without even calling for the nurse to come resuscitate them.
*Tomorrow I have to try and find a pair of pants to go with the super-cute top I bought to go to that retirement dinner this weekend. I'm certain that the candy bar will be a factor in this process. But I don't care.
*Like I said. It was medicinal. It is not my fault if I am all puffy from my medication. That is just a side-effect and something for which I should be pitied.
This is another one of those times that I suspect Karma of having a very, very mean side. Fortunately, there are no more giant candy bars lying about so I think I can make it through the night without any further tumbles from the diet wagon. I make no promises for tomorrow, though.
The directions on most prescriptions tell you to take it until it is all gone, even if you are feeling better. And, in spite of my poor housewifely ways, I am a real fiend for following the directions.
SA
14 comments:
This is not good news.
Is there no recourse?
Is there nothing to be done?
Is there no balm in Gilead?
Oh, well, that just sucks. I'm sorry.
Ugh, sounds like a real pain. What a way to end the year.
And for the record, as a 1930s wife, I am Poor (25). That's good news!
Bah. Sometimes a full-size candy bar is the only medicine.
Well, that's just wrong! No wonder you ate an entire BIG candy bar; you needed lots of medicating!
Oh well if the candy bar had peanut butter in it then it had protein. Protein is good for you so of course it was medicinal. Completely logical!
I'm average as a 30's housewife, likely because I'm always jolly and gay. Well, gay, at least.
I'm sorry about the CTA. My first year in education, I was a CTA and hoped to stay with the teacher from whom I was learning scads of good stuff. Did they leave a good team alone? Of course not. I got moved into a whole new section with kids I didn't know and had to prove myself all over again. I don't remember it fondly. In fact, I don't remember that job fondly at all. Just the kids. I really liked the kids.
wow.. when you get to threatening to burp chocolate fumes.. we know it's getting serious over there.
And that really does suck. And makes SO much sense.
Maybe a stock up on medicine is in order for the weekend?
This I know-
As quickly as directors change and CTA's are disregarded, it is only June. All the really good transferring and negotiating for position doesn't take place until three days before we go back around here. I'm holding out hope for you.
Oh crap. Going to the bad job with your assistant would have been good. Maybe things will change over the summer.
Oh man, poor Sheepie! Poor CTA too for that matter. Maybe something will work out in the end.
In the mean time, medicinal chocolate is perfectly reasonable.
LOL! Oh, poor Sheepie -- how I have missed reading your blogs! I'm back -- check out my blog for my newest blog where I will be posting on a more regular basis. There is a link there.
I tried to be brutally honest on the housewife thing - sort of a combo of how I am now and how I was when Marc was alive - and came out towards the upper end of POOR. what a relief ... any woman today scoring highly is in serious trouble
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