Saturday, February 11, 2012

At Least It's a Short Month

A week in the life of a teacher: Monday, as always, I woke up late.  As in LATE.  Monday's are never good because I have a non-cooperative teacher in my room first period, so I have to leave.  And, since the computer loses it's charge over the weekend, when I come back from Common Planning (again, always late), it takes excruciatingly long to power everything up and get started with the lesson.  Any teacher can tell you that a delay is seen as an opportunity to run amok by the students, so that is always pleasant.  Fast forward to Friday, which started with a lecture from my mother-in-law about hair clips and underwear (don't ask), then I find out that the day I've chosen for a field trip is a "bus maintenance day".  Scheduling a field trip requires more paperwork than a bank closing, so learning at the last step that you can't get a bus is stupefying. And then, the pizza-resistance, my last class came into the room fighting.  A girl hit another in the face, and not one, but two pairs of boys were fighting eachother.  Another boy walked in 30 minutes late and proceeded to disrupt the class and argue with me.  And, a student threw a pen cap at me twice. 

Which brings me to my main point.  Lately, February has not been kind to me.  I had my stroke in February.  Both of my two LONG years teaching in Middle Village hit their nadir in February.  The gunk on the side of the highway is especially grey this time of year.  Mystery 24-hour bugs are rampant.  It's becoming a month I truly dread.  Or, at least, I certainly hope it's just February, and not the new direction of my life!

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