In The Plague Years...

Sheepie is, once again, sitting in her classroom and waiting for parent conferences that may or may not happen. In fact, I do have one scheduled this time. But it's not until 5:30 and I've got a ways to go before anyone deigns to converse with me. On the plus side, this round of conferences only goes until 7:00. On the negative, that is still a long time to sit and wait for someone to tell me I can go home.

Frankly, home is where I'd rather be. I was awakened at 2:00 this morning by my tummy who wanted to let me know that it didn't appreciate all that 1/2 priced Halloween candy I ate over the weekend. It was most insistent that I read that memo. When I ignored it and tried to go back to sleep, the tummy ratcheted up the warning and forced me to listen.

I do not care for throwing up. I like it even less at 2:00 in the morning. In general, I am not a fan of the whole, sorry process.

Trouper that I am, though, I still got out of bed at 5:00 and readied myself for another school day. Given that it is parent/teacher conference night, I couldn't really take a sick day. Besides, my tummy was now satisfied that I'd heard its concerns and had settled down markedly.

When the first bell rang, I had no students. None. A few straggled in later, but it took a while and I never saw everyone I was supposed to see. When the attendance report was emailed, I figured out why.

It was nine pages long. Over a hundred kids out sick. Almost forty more were dismissed throughout the course of the day. Even if you don't factor in those who took advantage of the mass dismissals or who may have been the victim of a little panic-sickness, that's still a whole lot of kids who needed to be sent home. If the reports are correct, that was close to 30% of the school's student body.

Did I mention that I still don't have a flu shot? Great...

It was a pretty quiet day here at Education Central. When you run out of kids to teach, you have to be kind of creative with your time. When you develop a case of the sniffles before noon, it is even more important that you find something to do or else you will start thinking the worst. That helps no one.

So here I sit in my classroom or, as I like to call it, Ground Zero. The plague swirls all around me just waiting for an opportunity to pounce and there isn't a darned thing I can do about it. I've used the bleach wipes on every available surface and sanitized my hands so much that they are raw. It's in the hands of fate now.

If you are scheduled to meet with me tonight to conference about your child's progress, I should be fairly easy to locate. I'll be the one in the room reeking of bleach, knitting a hat and wearing a hazmat suit..

SA