Now You See Her...

I am taking the weekdays off this week, unless something really, really noteworthy happens. I plan to return Friday evening if the sun, moon, and stars align properly. It's Science Fair week, and our computer gradebook program was down all day Thursday, and the End of Course Test is coming up for my Biology students, and I am going to be busier than Homer Simpson at a donut-eating contest.

Speaking of that technology faux pas, it seems that nobody was complaining about it besides me, at least for the entire morning. Don't tell me that nobody else uses PowerGrade daily except ol' Hillbilly Mom. Though there were plenty of people cryin' big ol' crocodile tears last weekend, because they were counting on entering all their 3rd Quarter grades by Monday morning at 8:00, and the system was down for the whole weekend. The system which, by the way, is supposed to be fully accessible from home, which is why the district invested in laptops for the entire faculty. By sixth hour, I had had enough. The guidance office knew nothing, because, you see, THEY didn't have any problems getting into the program that they use. I sought out Mr. Principal, and found him at the main entrance, jiggling the top latch of the metal-and-safety-glass inner door, while the district handyman jiggled the main latch. He must be the only handyman with a building principal as his assistant.

Mr. H was watching, probably just a happy coincidence, getting there after the handy's helper had already been established. Mr. Principal relayed that the tech problem would remain in effect until TechDude returned from a tech conference. I said, "So it really won't do me any good to take my work home and try to enter it from there in the event that PowerGrade gets fixed before Monday?" Mr. H said, "Not necessarily. There are some things that he can access remotely." Because we knew TechDude would not be schlepping up to Newmentia to troubleshoot the problem on a weekend.

When I got back to my room, I finally put the pieces together. I wanted to give Mr. H a slap to the forehead. A good ol' 'I could have had a V8' slap, right between the eyes. Because, if TechDude could access and fix the problem remotely, wouldn't he have already freakin' DONE IT, for cryin' out loud, since it had been down for at least six hours already? Wouldn't he? Isn't that kind of what his job is all about? His bread-and-butter? The way he earns his keep?

I don't look for Mr. H to be elected president of the Hillmomba chapter of Mensa any time soon.