I was going to write this post about my birthday party, which was completely awesome! My friends were amazing, and made it a spectacular day.
I should have written about that yesterday, though, because today is one of those days when there was never any chance I’d be in the kind of mood to write that post.
It starts this morning, when I get to work and am met by my panicked department chair asking me to fill in for another English teacher because she’s stuck in a traffic jam.
Then, I go into my classroom and listen to a panicked voice mail from the teacher stuck in traffic, asking me to cover for her. I call her back to let her know I’ll take care of it. I hang up and am immediately visited by no less than two of my boss administrator guys who ask me to cover her class… which I’ve already agreed to do.
The teacher stuck in traffick teaches freshmen, and God bless her for it, because freshmen aren’t my favorite grade level at all. They are way more unashamedly inappropriate than older students, so, of course one of her students hits on me in front of the entire class about five minutes in. Were he one of my students, he would receive a quick referral, but I figure his real teacher will be there soon, and I just need to make it a few minutes till she arrives.
Of course, she ends up stuck in traffic way longer than expected, and I have to fill in for the entire class and part of another one.
Then, I find out that the reason she was stuck in traffic was because there was a fatality on the freeway, which makes me feel all weird, like I need to contemplate death or something.
I go back to my classroom and try to get some stuff ready to make copies, and I hear a kid in the hallway yelling, “DEEEEEE-MON!”
A moment or two after that, another one of the English teachers runs into my room, saying she needs to use my phone to call security.This particular teacher is in her sixties, adorable, and tiny.
After she gets off the phone, I ask if she wants me to come back to her room with her, where there is a senior boy screaming profanities and dragging a huge trashbin around the floor. I go into her room with her, and the boy goes out in the hallway where the profanities continue, followed by another long, “DEEEEEEEEE-mon!”
Kids say the darnedest things, right? Of all the names he could have called her, the one he keeps repeating is demon? The profanities aren’t actually that bad, because his emphasis on the first syllable of demon is SO overwhelming that it sounds like the most profane word in all the world.
For a strange moment, I think about trying to talk to the kid, because most kids like me. However, when I get a good look at him, I’m not all that sure he’ll pause long enough to like me before he punches me in the face, so I decide against talking to him.
One of the assistant principal/boss men comes in and asks what’s going on; I watch the teacher’s class while she steps out in the hall and explains. Security eventually takes the kid away and I go back to work.
During lunch, I start reading a book called Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher, which is REALLY good, but so depressing. It’s about teen alienation and suicide.
THEN, later in the day, one of my junior classes is in the room, and I’ve just given them their study guide for the semester final. I walk back to my desk, and a really outgoing, adorable kid approaches. He’s one of my favorite kids of the year because he’s the kind who is way too enthusiastic for his own good, tries to get good grades – but just can’t do better than a ‘C’, and conspires to get the whole room to do spirit fingers to cheer up anyone who is having a bad day.
Well, I’m cranky and don’t want this student to procrastinate when he should be working (which is why he’s coming to talk to me – he wants to burn some time). So, I say, “What do you want.”
His response? I kid you not – he says, “You know what I want.”
Now… this isn’t that kind of a kid. There are those kind, and I’m pretty decent at dealing with them, but this completely catches me off-guard and I just stare at him with shock on my face. He immediately starts apologizing and begging for forgiveness, which I grant, because I don’t think he actually thought about what he’d said. But still.
At four o-clock, I go home, pick up some writing/reading stuff and go to Starbucks… where I discover I don’t have my wallet.
It’s okay. The wallet is now accounted for, but I just feel weird today. In fact, I feel a lot like I feel after I’ve been playing Assassin’s Creed for too long and am pretty sure I can free-run up the sides of buildings – like I can’t tell if today was real or not.