Thursday: The Day Before The Last Day Before...

I believe that the overall "tone" of this day can be distilled down into two conversations. The first happened shortly before lunch and during what we could still call the morning. The second occurred after the students left for the day and while I was trying to pull together something, anything, that might suffice as a lesson plan for tomorrow.

I arrived at school at the ungodly hour of 6:30 today because yesterday was not a good day for doing anything productive. Nor was the day before that. Or the day before that. This could probably account for my spending more time engaging in witty banter than teaching.

Conversation The First:

The Husky Redheaded Kid Who Reminds Me Of My Cat (and who has had a very tough week) is chatting with his peers regarding the very important matter of who is going to sit with whom at lunch. He has accepted an invitation and other students are jockeying for positions at the same table. Ms. Sheep has accepted that her priorities (namely the finishing of Science and Social Studies before lunch) are not that important.

HRKWRMOMC: So who else is coming? Bob, you in? Tom?

Ms. Sheep: Can I sit with you? I want to come, too!

HRKWRMOMC: No.

MS: Pleeeeeeeeease???? I wanna sit with you! I'll be good, I swear it!

HRKWRMOMC: No.

MS: Awwww...c'mon! I'll just sit there. I won't say a word.

HRKWRMOMC: No!

MS: But...

HRKWRMOMC: NO!

MS: You won't even know I'm there.

HRKWRMOMC: (now ignoring Ms. Sheep)

MS: I'll just sit there and knit...

HRKWRMOMC: (with a look of utter horror) Oh God, NO!!!!!

There is a pause and then the both he and Ms. Sheep crack up. The Husky Redheaded Kid may have had a horrible week and was barely holding himself together by the thinnest of threads, but he never seems to lose his sense of humor. He "gets" me. This is a good thing.

Of course, he was the one who was supposed to bring in the movie for tomorrow. His eventual invitation to start his spring break a day early courtesy of the assistant principal left me in a bit of a lurch. I was less amused when I had to run out to pick up a copy of Twilight so that we could follow through on our promise to show this film if the kids could just not kill each other between Monday and the start of vacation.

Conversation The Second:

Ms. Sheep is wearily trying to photocopy some stuff for the kids to do tomorrow. There are about four billion staff members in the teacher's room and the principal is leaning comfortably against the copier while it collates and staples her language arts packets. Suddenly, the copier stops. There is a picture on the information screen. It is a diagram that Ms. Sheep has seen many times over the last few days and one which requires that she, once again, travel down to the main office and confess to the secretary that she has jammed the photocopier. She does not want to do this. She knows that this will not make the secretary happy. She also knows that she is not allowed to clear the machine herself. That is a rule. She is in an agony of indecision and softly speaks of her angst. Note that I say she said this softly...no one should have heard her.

MS: ...I have to join the Witness Protection program now.

Four Billion People And The Principal In Unison: GASP!!!

Before Ms. Sheep can even process the fact that everyone heard the whispered voicing of her dilemma...

Mr. Principal: OK, people. You know what to do. Let's move.

He then, and you may think I'm kidding but I am as serious as a funeral here, began ushering the crowd out of the teacher's room and into the hallway. I was left standing alone by the jammed copier with no one to comfort me in my hour of need.

The secretary was kind, but in a sort of exasperated way. I don't blame her. I've managed to jam that copier every day for a week now. On the positive side, she did cast a chastising look at all the people who were standing in the hallway and grinning happily at my predicament.

For the record, I have never been invited to any of the Copier Jam Emergency Evacuation Drills. But clearly they are happening because I've never before seen a more orderly emptying of a room.

I didn't bother trying to finish my copying. I just got my stuff and went home. I know when I'm beat. I hit the store to pick up the movie for the kids, as well as a stack of viewing material for myself. (my new TV has a DVD player built right in so I had to buy some new movies to test it, right?) An ungodly amount of snack foods were also purchased because, this time tomorrow, there is no way I am going to be dieting. (I tested some of the goodies tonight because it wouldn't do to have stale snack foods in the house for my vacation, right?) I am now counting down the hours.

One more day. One more day of jammed copiers and colleagues who will throw me under the bus before standing by my side when the secretary must be called. One more day of students who won't do their work and who also don't want me to sit with them at lunch. If I can survive just one more day, I get to come home and sleep for a week.

I'll still be eating lunch by myself but, somehow, that doesn't seem so bad...

SA