Nineteen Days

I work in a school and I have summers off. I love having summers off.

I HATE the month before school ends. Everyone is insane. The kids don’t want to be in school and this results in things as innocuous as inattention and things as irritating as children running through the halls, screaming and punching things. The adults are just as bad. They’re stressed and irritable.There’s no air conditioning in our building so everyone is hot and sweatie and miserable about that.

There are nineteen days left. There’s about 12 field trips in those nineteen days. and Field Day. How I loathe field day… but it’s only 19.

And I know, I used to work all year and there was never a problem. Maybe there’s something wrong with me, but these kids take it out of me. Caring as hard as they do about all their weird complaints. dealing with their unending drama, their rage.

The lying… specificallie the BAD lying. If you MUST lie to me, do a decent job. Don’t use words you don’t know the definitions of. Don’t make up stories about things you don’t know about. (heart pain on the right side is a favorite) Just don’t lie, franklie. I’m not unreasonable. I’ll let you bail on 20 minutes of class. But lying to me just makes me never believe anything you say, and someday you might need me to.

Anyways. Nineteen Days. I can do this. One period at a time. It’s only 45 minutes.  What could possibly go wrong?

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About SleepieBear

Opinions are my own. Facts are poorly checked. (Unless cited.) Use your brains.
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