Saturday, May 16, 2009

Spit Wad Survival

I'm five. At least, I've been acting that way lately. In the last week my professionalism at work has diminished into something akin to a hollow ballpoint pen and perfectly saturated spit wad aimed at that waxy old school marm, also known as me.

For example, I walked by a colleague's classroom on Tuesday. By colleague, I mean the very same Tweedle Dee who passed extremely mature notes with the cool kids at that very formal staff meeting that one time. Anyway, as I passed his room, I noticed his door was propped slightly open which, as any amateur knows, is an invitation to jackholery.

I peeked into the room and noticed Tweedle Dee was at his desk. The lights were off and the kids were watching some sort of enlightening documentary, one that I believe comes standard with any American history class.. or maybe it was contraband.. I can't remember. The point is that seeing TD at his desk, clearly absorbed in the film, I crouched down close to the floor and whispered to the nearest kid sitting in the closest desk.

"Pssst. Hey. Psst."

The kid turned around slowly. From the expression on his face I knew he was slightly horrified to be breaking a rule - that is, to almost talk during a movie - and even more horrified to find a grown woman- a teacher, no less- crouched close to the ground in the hallway, whispering "psst" to him through the slightly open door. His amusement quickly overtook his surprise, and he grinned.

I held one finger to my mouth, the universal signal for "shhhh" and in this case for "Act natural, kid. Don't draw attention to this area of the room," and then I whispered, "Do you have any paper?" He slowly and methodically unzipped his backpack, careful not to make a sound that might alert his teacher that he was doing anything remotely devious. He shimmied a single loose leaf sheet out of a folder and carefully passed in through the door to me.

I took the paper and on it wrote, "Walk up to Tweedle Dee, point one finger at him, and say, 'Zap!' Do this before you leave class today." I then passed the note back to the kid, who read it and looked back at me. I made the universal hand signal for "pass this around the class," which in return was given an almost too enthusiastic thumbs up. Before I left, I took one more peek at Tweedle Dee who had not moved a muscle.

I'm not sure how far the note got, or if any of his class had the chance to Zap Tweedle Dee. I did get an email back with the word "ZAP" written in 72 font size, so I know he knows..

See? I'm five. And this story does not even include the argument I had with a student that involved my shoulder angel (that sits across from my demon one) being Al Capone which means that his shoulder angel should watch his back. It does not include the fact that I had my entire LitMag staff singing Minnie Ripperton's "Loving You" with a particularly robust "La la la la la" chorus, or the fact that I'm making my kids River Dance to the pencil sharpener.

I think my stress level is really high and because I'm drowning in worry - about whether or not my kids will graduate (I seem to be the only one who cares); magazine production - printing, music recording and release party; IB assessment papers; and general end of the school activities - I think I've reverted to these immature shenanigans. But I'm surviving. And it's kind of fun to be the crazy one..

5 comments:

Pete the Brit said...

[pointing finger] ZAP!

Somebody had to :)

Kathy B! said...

double - ZAP!

It is fun to be the crazy one! And I think it sounds more like you're crazy-fun, personally :)

Jen said...

Haha too funny! Yes, teachers can have fun too!! I had a student recently tell me that he thinks the teachers are more excited about the end of school than the kids! I think he was right!! I would definitely say you're READY for Summer and your making these last few weeks bearable!

Oh and yes, Zap!!

Amy said...

At least someone is having fun at work.

Bonnie said...

ZAP! Hang in there, the year is almost over! I think we are all going a little crazy this year. I'm stressing about TAKS scores, and how I'm going to pack up my room before June 9th.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

Spit Wad Survival

I'm five. At least, I've been acting that way lately. In the last week my professionalism at work has diminished into something akin to a hollow ballpoint pen and perfectly saturated spit wad aimed at that waxy old school marm, also known as me.

For example, I walked by a colleague's classroom on Tuesday. By colleague, I mean the very same Tweedle Dee who passed extremely mature notes with the cool kids at that very formal staff meeting that one time. Anyway, as I passed his room, I noticed his door was propped slightly open which, as any amateur knows, is an invitation to jackholery.

I peeked into the room and noticed Tweedle Dee was at his desk. The lights were off and the kids were watching some sort of enlightening documentary, one that I believe comes standard with any American history class.. or maybe it was contraband.. I can't remember. The point is that seeing TD at his desk, clearly absorbed in the film, I crouched down close to the floor and whispered to the nearest kid sitting in the closest desk.

"Pssst. Hey. Psst."

The kid turned around slowly. From the expression on his face I knew he was slightly horrified to be breaking a rule - that is, to almost talk during a movie - and even more horrified to find a grown woman- a teacher, no less- crouched close to the ground in the hallway, whispering "psst" to him through the slightly open door. His amusement quickly overtook his surprise, and he grinned.

I held one finger to my mouth, the universal signal for "shhhh" and in this case for "Act natural, kid. Don't draw attention to this area of the room," and then I whispered, "Do you have any paper?" He slowly and methodically unzipped his backpack, careful not to make a sound that might alert his teacher that he was doing anything remotely devious. He shimmied a single loose leaf sheet out of a folder and carefully passed in through the door to me.

I took the paper and on it wrote, "Walk up to Tweedle Dee, point one finger at him, and say, 'Zap!' Do this before you leave class today." I then passed the note back to the kid, who read it and looked back at me. I made the universal hand signal for "pass this around the class," which in return was given an almost too enthusiastic thumbs up. Before I left, I took one more peek at Tweedle Dee who had not moved a muscle.

I'm not sure how far the note got, or if any of his class had the chance to Zap Tweedle Dee. I did get an email back with the word "ZAP" written in 72 font size, so I know he knows..

See? I'm five. And this story does not even include the argument I had with a student that involved my shoulder angel (that sits across from my demon one) being Al Capone which means that his shoulder angel should watch his back. It does not include the fact that I had my entire LitMag staff singing Minnie Ripperton's "Loving You" with a particularly robust "La la la la la" chorus, or the fact that I'm making my kids River Dance to the pencil sharpener.

I think my stress level is really high and because I'm drowning in worry - about whether or not my kids will graduate (I seem to be the only one who cares); magazine production - printing, music recording and release party; IB assessment papers; and general end of the school activities - I think I've reverted to these immature shenanigans. But I'm surviving. And it's kind of fun to be the crazy one..

5 comments:

Pete the Brit said...

[pointing finger] ZAP!

Somebody had to :)

Kathy B! said...

double - ZAP!

It is fun to be the crazy one! And I think it sounds more like you're crazy-fun, personally :)

Jen said...

Haha too funny! Yes, teachers can have fun too!! I had a student recently tell me that he thinks the teachers are more excited about the end of school than the kids! I think he was right!! I would definitely say you're READY for Summer and your making these last few weeks bearable!

Oh and yes, Zap!!

Amy said...

At least someone is having fun at work.

Bonnie said...

ZAP! Hang in there, the year is almost over! I think we are all going a little crazy this year. I'm stressing about TAKS scores, and how I'm going to pack up my room before June 9th.