Just when Mrs. Hillbilly Mom was seriously considering chucking it all to crawl into her custom-made hillbilly handbasket, the final nail was driven into her coffin. It's hard to describe the sheer HORROR this event struck on the jangling last nerve of Mrs. Hillbilly Mom.
It is bad enough that the cafeteria now charges for everything. I'm surprised they don't have their hand out to charge for a squirt of gravy from the converted ketchup bottle thingy. In years past, if a teacher wanted just a bowl of mashed potatoes, or just a dessert, or just a bowl of oniony green beans...the checkout lady would wave you by, even though you showed her your bounty. She was very apologetic last week when I went in for some mashed potatoes. "I'm sorry. I'm going to have to charge you fifty cents." It's not her fault. I didn't mind. In fact, I told her, "Hey! I still have $4.75 left from last year." Uh huh. I'm a big spender. I could have bought a round of mashed potatoes for my lunch buddies. Because that's the kind of gal I am. Except that they already had trays, or their broughten lunches.
Today, the fifty-cent bowl of mashed potatoes was not filled to the top. It was about 3/4 full, where it used to be mounded over the top. And the cook flung a dab of my precious mashed potatoes onto the side of the styrofoam bowl. But I dealt with it.
No, a mashed potato shortage is not the issue today, people. The principal paid a visit to my room 6th hour, my plan time. I was grading the never-ending stack of papers at my desk. "Did you come to check out my room?" I asked. Because at our meeting yesterday, he said he was going to visit everyone. "Not today," he replied. And he opened up my thermostat and set it to 75 freakin' degrees, and put it on LOCK.
I'm going to die.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
I do not see the point of HAVING an air conditioning system if it's going to be forbidden to condition the air.
Our classroom thermostats don't allow us to set the temp, but mine keeps the room reasonably cool when I set it to auto and leave it alone. The one in my room last year was blowing out sticky, wet, not cool enough air. And it smelled funny.
But it was probably slightly cooler than 75 degrees. That is ridiculous.
Miss Ann,
It was bad enough when he sent the custodians around to lock them at 72 during the first week of school. Of course, we all know how to unlock them. I've been cool as a cucumber, with sense enough to put it back on 72 when I leave at the end of the day. Oh, and now we are supposed to turn out the lights when we leave the room. But get this, we're supposed to be using the bejeebers out of technology, which only heats up the room even more, not to mention leaving computers on all week for updating. Rumor has it that the electric company billed us for two years back usage, because their meter was malfunctioning. For TWO years. I say it's THEIR problem, not ours. But I don't run the school.
Down on Mabel's wing, the ceiling tiles are sagging because of the humidity. Let one of those babies come crashing down on a student's noggin, and we'll see some quick action. This building is only 7 years old. There's no need for us to live like we're in Basementia.
Post a Comment