DeadpanAnn (old blogger version)

Yesterday may have been the greatest clusterfuck of all time. We were scheduled for the last day of testing, and it was the math test. For you non-teachers, the distribution of testing materials is a pain, but on math day it's even worse. This is because all testing materials are "secure," and each teacher has to stand in the little vault and count each individual item and sign for them. On math day it's worse because there are more items: calculators, rulers, formula charts, etc. (Why do they get to use all that stuff, anyway!?) So it took a while for all 40+ teachers to get their materials checked out and back to the rooms.

It was getting very close to time to start. I had all my students seated where I wanted them, had taken up all their personal belongings, had threatened their lives if they didn't hand over their cell phones, and had even handed out the pencils. I was just waiting for the green light to start testing. The intercom clicked, and we all waited to hear the go ahead. Instead, we heard, "Attention students and teachers. This announcement is very important, so please listen closely. We have just received word from the central office in Jackson that we will not be allowed to test today due to the weather that is on its way here. Testing is postponed until tomorrow. Please gather your testing materials and come check them back in."

Arrrrrrrrrrgghhhhhhh.

Checking test materials back in is the exact same as checking them out. You have to count everything. So basically, the proctors, who are made up of volunteers in the community who generally have NO experience in dealing with students, were left alone in the classes with the kids for 15-30 minutes while the teachers went to check the stuff back in. I was back to my room in 20 minutes, but I wasn't worried about my proctor. She subs all the time and can handle them as well as any teacher. Still, I hear all hell broke loose in one or two rooms. What did they expect? It really could have been worse.

Now with the test postponed until tomorrow (today) the kids were upset because they had been promised a May Day today. It's postponed until next week, which should be better for them since it might rain again today, but you can't tell a 14 year old anything. Also, the teachers were all planning to spend 1st through 4th periods testing. So now every teacher is trying to pull something together at the last minute.

I decided we'd have Mercy Day. This means that all the people who are failing either for this term or for the year (and there are a lot of them) would have a chance to complete some work for major extra points. It was worth 120 free daily points PLUS a test grade of up to 100. They had to do six English assignments, but they weren't that hard. Most of the kids finished it in the two hours they were with me. Well, except for the class that spent an hour on the floor during the TORNADO WARNING.

Yeah. My 1st period class came in at 8:30. We went through the hurrah of the cancelled test. Second period was late getting started, but it didn't matter because all mine come back to me for 2nd period too. Mere seconds into 2nd period, we're told to line up on the floors against the wall because there is a tornado warning.

The kids don't take this seriously enough. They don't understand that a warning means a tornado has been spotted in the area. Everything is a damn joke to them. I had to scream at the top of my lungs to get them to fcking MOVE. They were actually arguing with me and refusing to get on the damn ground! Unreal. Then they wouldn't really get in the right position, which I'm thinking they MUST have been taught from kindergarten on, and they spent the entire time bitching about having to be in the floor. There are worse things in life, people. I couldn't believe what an ordeal it was to be in a tornado warning with that bunch, and we were down there for over an hour.

This is my hell. Yes, if I died and went to hell, it would be me with that particular group of kids in a tornado warning for eternity.

Once the weather threat had passed, they moved on the 3rd period, which is my planning period. There were only 30 minutes left of 3rd period, but at least I got some kind of break. It's the first time this week I've actually had a planning period, because testing usually goes through 4th, and instead of trying to be fair and have the kids return to a different class each day, they have been sending them straight to 4th period after testing.

The rest of the day dragged on. I showed a video in my 6th and 7th periods. Today I think they will have Mercy Day, but fewer of them need it, so I'm not sure how it's gonna go.

When the last kid finally dragged out of my class at 4:00, I was thinking the day was over. I had completely forgotten about my nephew's high school graduation. Tim had to work, so I had to go alone to make sure our little corner of the family was represented. They live about 50 miles from here, so I had zero time to relax after work. I freshened up, changed clothes, and hit the road. Then I spent 90 minutes in a HOT gym just waiting for the thing to start. That's how early you have to be to a graduation in a small town, because everyone goes whether they have family graduating or not. The thing just dragged on, but we got the boy graduated, then there was the family get-together/party afterwards. I was the first person to leave, and I was still there until 10:00. It was close to 11:00 when I finally made it home.

Even when I got here, it seemed like there was no chance to sit down for an hour or so. Things just had to be done, and they were urgent. For a fleeting moment I thought It won't stop-- where does this day END? And then it occured to me that this is a drop in the bucket compared to what must be in store. I guess I'd better get used to it.

Funny. I had a similar thought in the ER Wednesday night when they were jabbing tubes into my various holes.

Labels: family, Good Old Fashioned Bitchin', it's my pity party and I'll bitch if I want to, professional screw-ups, teacher life

My teaching license is MIA. A long time ago I created a file and labeled it "Licenses." It contains my teaching license, our marriage license, some stuff Tim needs to renew his pharmacy license, etc. Important stuff. It was in one of the two filing cabinets. Now I can't find it anywhere. I know that I've seen it recently, and I get a cold feeling in my stomach when I think about it because it seems like it might have been in a location other than the one in which it belonged, but I can't remember where. Anyway, my job application to Dream High School is at a standstill right now because I can't remember my teaching license number and expiration date.

A kid called me a hoe today and nobody seemed to think it was a problem except for me. I can't believe they didn't suspend her. Nothing I can do about it though. I am done seething over it. But believe me, I did seethe.

I'm tired. I'm more tired the last 3-4 days than I have been the previous few weeks. Last night I told a friend I would meet her at 8:00. At 6:30 I realized it was going to take lots of effort to get off the couch. At 7:00 I decided she'd understand. I went to bed early, and when the alarm went off at 5:45 today (I've moved it back from my pre-pregnancy 5:15, since I can't spend those 30 minutes drinking coffee) I really thought it had to be some kind of mistake. But no, there it was before my eyes in plain green numbers. 5:45. I snoozed 'til 6:00, and dragged my tail all day. That young'un is sucking it out of me right now.

Pookie is unusually sleepy lately. He hasn't even tried to pierce my jugular a single time in the last 2 days. Maybe he's pregnant too.

It's still not a cat blog.

Back to pregnancy symptoms for a minute. Have I mentioned that I am spewing more vitriol than...than...I don't know what. I'm just pissed! All the time. For nothing. I'm miserable and I want other people to feel my misery. I don't want sympathy. I just want you to feel the pain of my emotional trainwreck. Don't ask me a question because the answer is f*ck off. Don't ask me to do anything because the answer is f*ck off. Don't tell me to have a nice day because the response is f*ck off. I just want everyone to effing eff off. Then I realize what a total bitch I'm being, and I want to cry, because it's ultra bitchy-- even for me. It's really hard not to cry. This is supposed to get better after week 10. I am either in 9 or 10 right now. I'm not sure.

Poor Tim. He's trying to be positive and keep me positive. It helps-- it really does. But he's getting more than his fair share of bitchiness lately and sometimes I really can't help it.

I'm hungry and fat and out of salad ingredients. All that remains are spinach leaves, and all I want is a Big Mac.

Okay, this is the last pregnancy thing I'll talk about today. At least I think it's a pregnancy thing because I've never had it before. There is so much spit in my mouth that it flies out sometimes. I have become the teacher that spits when she talks. The kids on the front row close their eyes when I walk by if I'm talking. Sometimes my mouth is so full of it that I have to stop and swallow to finish a sentence or it'll fly out. When I wake up, my pillow is soggy and my ear is full. I spit you not.

I apologize for that last part. Unless it made you giggle.

It's 9:30. Why am I still awake? This is not going to seem worth staying up for when the alarm goes off in the morning.

Labels: I'm knocked up, it's my pity party and I'll bitch if I want to, it's not a cat blog, it's not a mommy blog either, random thought whenever

I'm a SuperTeacher. You didn't know? I can teach three weeks' worth of new material to unmotivated low achievers in one week while simultaneously reviewing 21 weeks' worth of old material, reteaching and retesting last week's material, and fitting in the required one day of small groups per week and 20 minutes of reading per day.

I can outline every last detail of it on a lesson plan so clearly that a substitute or another teacher could come in and do it exactly as I planned to.

And I can make them LIKE IT!

I can get 3 hours' worth of paperwork done in 45 minutes. In the same 45 minutes, I can call 4 parents and document the details of each phone call, reprint progress reports for 6 students who lost theirs, order a new toner cartridge, file 180 graded students assignments into 80 different student folders, go to the teacher workroom on the other end of campus and scan 80 tests, record 80 test grades in the gradebook--- twice--- once by pen in the paper gradebook, and once in the electronic gradebook because I'm required to do both, submit copies for tomorrow's lessons, write 16 test questions at various depths of knowledge, take a phone call from a counselor to discuss John Doe and mark my calendar for the parent conference we're having tomorrow, fill out behavior modification documents on John Doe and three of his cohorts, look up 80 addresses in the computer and write them onto 80 envelopes, make copies of the 80 letters that are going into the 80 envelopes, stuff the 80 letters into the 80 envelopes, run the envelopes up to the "outgoing mail" basket, file the 80 copies of the letters into the proper student files so I can prove I sent them, erase the answers off the board from the previous class, and get to the doorway and muster a smile before the next class comes. Then I greet them warmly and spend the next two hours appearing to be-- a) not stressed out at all, and b) completely focused on them.

In the English department meeting, I can bite my tongue when I am criticized for not having accomplished 100% of the above during my 45 minute break. I can smile and agree that I am not meeting the expectations of my job. I can smile when it is implied that this means that I don't care about my students, that I may have something negative noted in my evaluation and/or my personnel file, or that my students' lack of achievement is the result of my shortcomings.

When I get home at the end of the day, I turn on the tv and see a politician promising to "raise the bar" on these schools, get rid of lazy educators, and begin paying teachers based on their students' performance.

And none of it gets to me, cause it's just a job after all. And I don't really care anyway, remember?

Labels: Bureaucratic Incompetence, Good Old Fashioned Bitchin', it's my pity party and I'll bitch if I want to, teacher life