Thursday, March 26, 2009

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:


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.



Anonymous said...

My work phone gives me the number of the caller, too -- I love that. Except when the call comes through the switchboard. Then all I see is an incomprehensible number that is always the same, and I have to answer like a professional accountant instead of saying, "Hiya, handsome!" like I do when it is Younger Son or DH.

Mia said...

honest to God, isn't it sad when we start living our lives for our cats? but in a good way :) They defined Spoiled.

And girl.. FYI. You rock.

Kath said...

In the world of cats and children - that which you are forbidden to have is just so much more attractive than that which is simply handed to you. Except for vegetables - those are always icky.

Karen said...

We often have a box or two hanging around in our living room but we have a 6 year old boy and they love building stuff with boxes.

trek said...

Just yesterday whilst I was helping out with the hot lunches at Neatnik's school, some of the 8th grade girls made it a point to tell me how cool and how cute the Neatnik is (not that the child is unaware of the cute factor nor of the fan club). Several of the boys were elated and oh-so-very-grateful, too, when I knocked 50¢ off the extra hot dogs.

Perhaps it isn't all middle school students that are challenging. Or maybe it is just that I was not engaged in the process of attempting to force them to assimilate new information during the noon hour.

Donna Lee said...

I want one of those phones. I have the old fashioned ones that don't do anything but ring in an annoying manner. The only good thing about it is that my number is printed on it so I can never forget it.

Knitting Linguist said...

Alas for telephonic omniscience. Wouldn't it be nice if it were so? :)

catsmum said...

I used to have one of those phones at the former residence but the one I have now is pretty basic and only works when it feels like it. The bedroom phone [ which I believe belonged to Mrs Noah ] will be shrilling away and does the kitchen one make so much as a beep ???
ps my verification thingie is 'phades' which is, I believe, where all bad phones go in the end

Beth said...

I missed some of your posts and feel behind - a big cat removing wallpaper, you having to eat chicken thighs (I don't like them either!), being tricked by a fake raise... you've had quite a week!