Argh!
I've been in a bad mood all day. So (sorry, y'all!) I'm going to vent. Read no further unless you feel like being sucked into the abyss.
First off, I took too long getting ready this morning, which meant that I'd be a minute or two late for work. No biggie.
But a minute or two turned into five when Cheesepuff bolted into my spare bedroom just before I closed the door. I would've just left the door open for him, but I'd hidden all my Christmas present and wrapping paper in there, as well as a basket of clean clothes. If the kitties had had easy access to all that, my clothes would've been covered in hair, my wrapping paper would've become confetti, and who knows what could've happened to the big bag of gifts. So I had to get Cheesepuff out.
I tried gently calling to him--no luck. Just when I'd managed to chase Cheesepuff into the hallway, Magellan bolted into the room and under the bed. As I tried to coax her out, Cheesepuff ran back in and hid under my desk. Meanwhile, Magellan edged her way out from under the bed. I managed to convince her to leave the room, but when I tried to get Cheesepuff out, he darted from under the desk to behind the curtains. Then Magellan ran back into the bedroom and returned to her cozy, underbed hiding place. If I thought they were capable of it, I might have imagined they were conspiring against me!
After the cat frustrations, I made it out to my car to find it completely covered in frost. If only I'd started the car first and then chased my cats around the house!
I finally left my house at 7:00--that's fifteen minutes later than my usual five minutes early, so I knew I'd most certainly be late to work. But I tried to calm myself down, because I knew it wouldn't be a big deal.
On my way to school, a guy in front of me suddenly slammed on his brakes. I narrowly missed hitting him as I, in turn, slammed on my own. Inertia flung all of my stuff to the floorboards of my car. Grrr.
I got to school five minutes before the bell for first period, rushed to get ready for my tenth graders, and took a deep breath. I will not be bitchy to my students, I told myself. It'll only put me in a worse mood. My first few kids came in quietly and politely, and that was great.
"What's this?" asked one student. I looked where he pointed; a sodden ceiling tile lay crumbling on the floor underneath one of my classroom's many leaks, which haven't been fixed no matter how many times I've turned in Maintenance request. I sent a janitor request to the front office, but no janitor ever appeared.
In the meantime, only a handful of my students decided to begin writing the journal assignment I'd put up on the board to get them started. I walked around, gritting my teeth and asking, as politely as possible, for all of them to get to work. After all, they only have to write half a page.
I hovered over one girl's desk. In response to the assignment, "How do you think Julius Caesar will end?", she'd written one sentence: "I don't know."
"Guess," I said, still forcing myself to think positively.
"I don't feel like it," she said. Grr.
"You just have to write half a page," I said. "Take your best guess, please." I continued to circulate around the room, making sure everyone was on task, and returned to her desk a few minutes later when I noticed she wasn't doing anything. I looked down at her paper and fought not to explode at her. She'd written, in two-inch-high letters: "Everybody dies."
I took another of many deep breaths. "Well, that's a good guess, but you need to go into a little more detail to make it half a page."
"It is half a page," she said. Smart-ass.
"You know that's not acceptable," I reminded her.
"Well, I'm not doing it," she said, and sat back stubbornly in her desk.
"Okay," I replied, "you can come to detention tomorrow morning at seven-thirty, then."
After a lot more reprimands and hushing and hovering--I never yelled--everyone finally became quiet and cooperative for the rest of the period. In fact, that class was the most well-behaved they've been all year.
Then I trekked through the cold wind outside to my second period class, where I am now. (They're working on projects, so all I really have to do these days is supervise. Bonus!) When I got here, I was in a decidedly better mood--at least until my co-teacher showed up thirty minutes late. I didn't really need her in here, but she lately she's been doing this more and more, and she expects me to take up the slack.
"Sorry," she said. "I got to talking to Coach J. and Mrs. D. down the hall, and you know how they are." Actually, I know how she is. She'll talk, at length, to anything that isn't inanimate, regardless of whether said conversation partner is busy, late, sick, etc. She still corners me every once in a while.
In any case, I do feel better now after ranting about all this crap. Maybe now that it's all out of my system, I'll have a good day?
First off, I took too long getting ready this morning, which meant that I'd be a minute or two late for work. No biggie.
But a minute or two turned into five when Cheesepuff bolted into my spare bedroom just before I closed the door. I would've just left the door open for him, but I'd hidden all my Christmas present and wrapping paper in there, as well as a basket of clean clothes. If the kitties had had easy access to all that, my clothes would've been covered in hair, my wrapping paper would've become confetti, and who knows what could've happened to the big bag of gifts. So I had to get Cheesepuff out.
I tried gently calling to him--no luck. Just when I'd managed to chase Cheesepuff into the hallway, Magellan bolted into the room and under the bed. As I tried to coax her out, Cheesepuff ran back in and hid under my desk. Meanwhile, Magellan edged her way out from under the bed. I managed to convince her to leave the room, but when I tried to get Cheesepuff out, he darted from under the desk to behind the curtains. Then Magellan ran back into the bedroom and returned to her cozy, underbed hiding place. If I thought they were capable of it, I might have imagined they were conspiring against me!
After the cat frustrations, I made it out to my car to find it completely covered in frost. If only I'd started the car first and then chased my cats around the house!
I finally left my house at 7:00--that's fifteen minutes later than my usual five minutes early, so I knew I'd most certainly be late to work. But I tried to calm myself down, because I knew it wouldn't be a big deal.
On my way to school, a guy in front of me suddenly slammed on his brakes. I narrowly missed hitting him as I, in turn, slammed on my own. Inertia flung all of my stuff to the floorboards of my car. Grrr.
I got to school five minutes before the bell for first period, rushed to get ready for my tenth graders, and took a deep breath. I will not be bitchy to my students, I told myself. It'll only put me in a worse mood. My first few kids came in quietly and politely, and that was great.
"What's this?" asked one student. I looked where he pointed; a sodden ceiling tile lay crumbling on the floor underneath one of my classroom's many leaks, which haven't been fixed no matter how many times I've turned in Maintenance request. I sent a janitor request to the front office, but no janitor ever appeared.
In the meantime, only a handful of my students decided to begin writing the journal assignment I'd put up on the board to get them started. I walked around, gritting my teeth and asking, as politely as possible, for all of them to get to work. After all, they only have to write half a page.
I hovered over one girl's desk. In response to the assignment, "How do you think Julius Caesar will end?", she'd written one sentence: "I don't know."
"Guess," I said, still forcing myself to think positively.
"I don't feel like it," she said. Grr.
"You just have to write half a page," I said. "Take your best guess, please." I continued to circulate around the room, making sure everyone was on task, and returned to her desk a few minutes later when I noticed she wasn't doing anything. I looked down at her paper and fought not to explode at her. She'd written, in two-inch-high letters: "Everybody dies."
I took another of many deep breaths. "Well, that's a good guess, but you need to go into a little more detail to make it half a page."
"It is half a page," she said. Smart-ass.
"You know that's not acceptable," I reminded her.
"Well, I'm not doing it," she said, and sat back stubbornly in her desk.
"Okay," I replied, "you can come to detention tomorrow morning at seven-thirty, then."
After a lot more reprimands and hushing and hovering--I never yelled--everyone finally became quiet and cooperative for the rest of the period. In fact, that class was the most well-behaved they've been all year.
Then I trekked through the cold wind outside to my second period class, where I am now. (They're working on projects, so all I really have to do these days is supervise. Bonus!) When I got here, I was in a decidedly better mood--at least until my co-teacher showed up thirty minutes late. I didn't really need her in here, but she lately she's been doing this more and more, and she expects me to take up the slack.
"Sorry," she said. "I got to talking to Coach J. and Mrs. D. down the hall, and you know how they are." Actually, I know how she is. She'll talk, at length, to anything that isn't inanimate, regardless of whether said conversation partner is busy, late, sick, etc. She still corners me every once in a while.
In any case, I do feel better now after ranting about all this crap. Maybe now that it's all out of my system, I'll have a good day?
posted by aome at 10:02 AM
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