Idiocy Or Something Like It

When I was unceremoniously transferred over to The Bad Job At The Middle School That No One Else Would Take And Into Which I Was Totally Suckered I took over a suite of rooms. Giving me a "suite" of rooms was their way of saying, "Here's lots of rooms. Now you never have to feel like you should come out. You can just wander around freely in the pen we've created for you." I suppose it could have been worse.

The suite/pen once housed the Assistant Principal and I inherited his office. With that office came The Good Phone With Lots Of Cool Buttons That I Can't Figure Out. This marvel of modern communication also has a display window which tells me who is calling me and where in the building they are hiding. This is ever so much better than some of the other phones. They are just The Slim Little Phones That Look Rather Sleek But Which Offer Nothing In The Way Of Cool Features.

I always know who is calling me. I mostly pretend that I don't because I wouldn't want anyone to feel that I was lording my superior phone over them. But I know who is on the other end. For example, I know when the Assistant Principal is calling me to tell me things I don't want to hear about students who didn't want to hear me when I told them to not do the things that they eventually ended up doing. And should he call on a particularly bad day when I am at end the end of my rope with the Spring Fever Behavior, it is very likely that I will pick up the phone and say simply:

I quit.

I'm an idiot sometimes. I forget that the Assistant Principal knows perfectly well that I know it is he. I am answering him from his former phone. He probably knows how it works. He will not be overwhelmed and mystified by my omniscience. He will simply say:

Denied.

Which was a very witty response, but did nothing to make me happier about what he had to tell me. I am also rather disturbed by the fact that I cannot seem to leave The Bad Job At The Middle School no matter what I do.

I drove home dejectedly, dutifully completed the Thursday Workout Session then sat upon the sofa contemplating some knitting. From the kitchen, I heard a sudden crashing and thumping. One does not have to be a genius to know who is up to no good out there: It could only be the Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty.

In the kitchen, I found the cardboard soda container in which I'd left a few cans that wouldn't fit into the fridge. The box was in the middle of the floor and I feared for my poor beverages. I chastised the beast responsible, but knew that he was going to go after that box again no matter what I said. It made more sense to remove the cans, open up the box at both ends, thus forming a tunnel into which he could try to fit his girth and toss it into the middle of the living room.

You can only imagine what this did for the decor. I am now living like a squatter over here...

And did he find the box at all appealing now that it was his for the taking? No he did not. He has not so much as glanced at it since it was given over unto him. He couldn't care less.

I'm starting to think I might be not too bright. I am living only to take note of the obvious solutions and failing to see the subtleties. First, I cannot seem to understand that people know how interoffice phones work and now I wonder if I may have been blissfully unaware of a plot in my own home. I think that the AGK and I may have been set up.

What am I saying? That's crazy talk! I'm overreacting... There is no plot. All is well in my world. I'm OK and so is my ability to process information. There's no need to over-think this...

Everyone here except for me is an idiot. And I hate my Absurdly Gi-normous brother.

SA