That California nut plant has been busy churning out salmonella. North Korea is going to nuke us (but at least they'll take out that nut plant). Marriage in Iowa is no longer limited to one man and one woman. Rocket fuel has been found in baby formula. Blagojevich is indicted on federal corruption charges. Looks like it's time for Billy Joel to write another 'We Didn't Start the Fire' song. If he can stop driving drunk long enough.
Students can be so demanding. I told them I was going to treat them the way they treat me. This was after I turned the desks 90 degrees counterclockwise so they could see my TV screen as I celebrated Science Fair by showing an old Junkyard Wars involving a glider. That's a lesson on LIFT, you know. The force that keeps an airplane (or glider) aloft. Who knew that these whiners would want to sit facing the front and crane their heads 90 degrees to watch. When one entered my lair and said, "What IDIOT turned all the chairs around?" I countered with, "What IDIOT shows no respect and thus deserves none in return?" One rude rhetorical question deserves another. I emphasized that they will get what they give. An attention-seeking lad said I was rude because I told them they needed to shut their mouths while I read the announcements. This was after telling them to 'be quiet' three times. Apparently, they did not understand that expression, so I told them exactly what to do. I obliged him by pointing out his rude episodes throughout the year and chuckling his little chuckle that he gives when he tries to dismiss someone as his hopeless inferior. I finished making my point by telling them to put all books in their desks, and put their hands on the desktops. No sleeping, no reading, no other homework, no spitwadding, no moving to sit by a buddy. Only pure, unadulterated TV-watching. Oh, and I told them the TV buzzes when somebody gets a text or a call. They did not like that one little bit. One young lass had the nerve to ask, "Are you kidding me?" Uh...no.
I might turn on the TV to blue screen every day, just to hear those phones. It is ONNN!
Perhaps you remember that PEOPLE PISS ME OFF. There is a growing list of cronies who are chompin' for a stompin'. They deserve their own post.
Did you know that Papa John's at The Devil's Playground in Hillmomba has a special this week of one large cheese pizza for $6.99? Me neither. Not until I called in a small cheese pizza for The Pony to the tune of $6.99, and walked in to pick it up and saw the little blackboard with the special.
Sneaker, the thermostat-molesting child who told me I had to drive her home from the Science Fair, was calm as a sun-warmed kitten today. See? That tough-love really works. Though by no way, shape, or form is this meant to imply any shade of fondness for her. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me for the 277th time with your ol' bad bipolar self, and shame on me.
If you don't get home from work until 6:30 on a Friday, due to staying to grade papers (because you were gone to the Science Fair yesterday and had a man substitute and they never grade the papers like a woman substitute will do, because women are givers and men are takers), update GradeBook, stop by your mom's house for a videotape of the finale of ER (because Thursday is your night to watch Survivor with The Pony), put your check in the bank, and pick up a few items at The Devil's Playground, your knees will hurt really, really bad (so bad that you don't care that you should really have used the word 'badly'), you will hear that left-over bottle of fake Vicodin from 2005 calling to you from the back of the medicine cabinet. If you take out one of those fake Vicodin, and crack it in half so it's not so much like a horse pill, and swallow it down with a cup of water, chased by a real Coca Cola, as you are cooking your supper, you will rethink that decision because it has been 8 hours since your lunch at 10:38 this morning, and some food in your stomach might have made you a little less woozy.
The baseball coach must be as fed up with these kids as I am. The team had a game today, and got out of school at 1:45. Coach called for them to meet him in the cafeteria. My room is not far away, and I heard his speech. When it was over, a bunch of them didn't get to go to the game. Coach had checked grades, and told them that if they had two or more Fs right now, they couldn't go. They needed to stay in school and work on bringing those grades up. Too bad, so sad. Karma is a b*tch.
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2 comments:
Wow, teaching IS the hardest job.. I could not stay as patient as you HBM, seriously! Zero tolerance to their unruly behaviour!
Cazzie,
It's not actually the hardest, compared to building bridges or skyscrapers or trying to make Obama look like he knows what he's doing. But it IS mentally draining, in that you can't really respond in the manner that you would like to. Kind of like the guards at Guantanamo Bay being pelted with feces, and having to show no emotion and not retaliate.
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