As I sit at school (51 minutes ofter my contract time has ended) getting ready to dive into what will be a long night of scoring district writing assessments, I'm beginning to see why these scoldings really tick me off:
(email I received this morning from my VP)
Good morning Melissa,
I noticed that you arrived to school this morning at 7:35. Help me understand why you were late and what you need to do to make sure this does not happen in the future.
Thanks
C.G.
(For the record: My contract time starts at 7:30... I arrived at 7:32. I'm also guessing that my lack of punctuality directly relates the comment below...)
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I often wonder what it would be like to get up each morning and go to a job where it didn't feel like a little piece of me was dying with each passing day.
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Sometimes when I go through an "I can't sleep" phase, I work until 2 or 3 in the morning writing plays for my students.
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I would like to create a reality show, "Job Swap," where people switch jobs for a week... just to gain some perspective.
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To get our students' attention during an activity, we hold up a hand and say, "Quiet 1, quiet 2, quiet 3."
Instead, I would like to get their atteniton Annie Lennox stlye. I would sing, "Do be do be do do do," to which they would all respond, "ah ahh." It would be magical.
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Sometimes I wish real life was like Scrubs: I tilt my head, look up into space, watch things go down in my classroom the way I would like, then suddenly I'm snapped back to reality and go on with the day.
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You couldn't pay me enough to relive 8th grade. Oh wait... that's how I make my living.
