Intellect Disconnect

This morning, the following things happened before 8:30 a.m.

* I woke up at 5:00 in the morning to take care of writing business and the internet was down, all day.
* I left on time for work and got there late because traffic in front of the school was SO bad I spent fifteen minutes in front of the school trying to get to the parking lot.
* An administrator walked into my room while I was trying to pull my morning schedule out of an orifice–I felt foolish. (She was fine–she even got to walk in when I was reminding everybody conscientiously to put their electronics away.)
* As she left, the overhead projector bulb went out.
* While the kids were working on their warm-up (the wrong way because it was up on the board instead of on the overhead) I booted up my computer and checked my messages. There was one from Mary (*waves!) saying,“Hey, did you see Whipped Cream gave “Whim” four and a half stars?” (This is especially close to my heart because Whim did not get a lot of attention when he came out, and I really loved him!)
* I made a *woot!* sound and broke their concentration on the board work. And then I had to explain (sort of) and then… when I’d just got the class BACK ON TRACK AFTER ALL THIS OTHER BULLSHIT…
* The custodian arrived with the extra chairs I requested because this class has enough students to split the seams of my portable.

The only good thing? When I complained to Mary about my students probably feeling like the entire day was watching a squirrel in a hamster ball, she said, lesson plan? Put this on the board: Fall of the Roman Empire: Discuss.

I was like, “Best. Lesson Plan. Ever.”

And, in other random crap:

Chicken: “Okay–how many people have been dipping cookies in my milk?”
Me: “Is that a euphemism? Because if it is, it’s just disturbing!”
Chicken: “Yeah, mom–feel free to use it. But seriously–how many people had cookies and used my milk while it’s on the table?”
Me: “At least three–can I really use that? Because I’m telling you, that’s a good one!”
***

Chicken: “Why does my back hurt?”
Mate: “Did you do any housework?”
Chicken: “Yes.”
Mate: “Did you clean the catboxes?”
Chicken: “Yes dad, that’s not why my back hurts!”
Mate: “Did you pick up the floor?”
Chicken: “Da-ad! YES I did something more than lie around and read all day! thanks a lot! My back really hurts–“
Me: “Your back hurts because you laid sideways on the beat-to-shit stuffed chair. It tweaks me out too.”
Chicken: “I love you mommy.”
***

Big T (general conversation): “Mom, could you do this for me?”
Me: I’m really tired. Could we not?
Big T: “Okay, fine. Can you do it now?”
Me: “Can I wait until it’s all quiet (or I’m not falling asleep) before I read your story/have this in depth conversation/discuss your college plans/discuss for the fifteenth time why you failed your driver’s training test/etc. etc. etc.?
Big T: “Sure. Can we talk about it now?”
Me: *hysterical sobbing fit*
Big T: “Sorry mom. Are you okay?”
Me: “Your timing sucks honey.”
Big T: “I’m sorry.”
Me: “That’s okay.”
Big T: “Can we talk about it NOW?”
Me: *sob*

***

Zoomboy, after running to the end of the house so he can launch himself at me like a rocket made of razor bones: “Did I hurt you, mom?”
Me: “No, sweetie, I’m fine.”
Zoomboy: “Okay, let me try it again!”

***

Me, in Wal-Mart: “OKay, let’s go get school supplies and clothes for the big kids.”
Kids: ‘Okay!”
Squish: “Can I get shoes and clothes?”
Me: “No! We’re going to get school supplies for the big kids!”
Squish: “Goody! I’m a big kid! Am I going to Kindergarten?”
Me, anticipating giant tantrum: “No, sweetheart, you’re going to get shoes and clothes. And a purse. And some bubble bath. And how about some earrings…”

***
Nameless Dumbass Colleague in Staffroom Who Should be Smacked Because He’s the One Who Felt It Was Unfair To Say This Workplace Was Hostile To Women: “Here… this is me! I’m doing an impression of Lane’s vibrator… It’s breaking down!” (What followed were some TRULY disturbing sound effects that I will not try to reproduce here.)

(later, after lunch room has cleared out, completely disturbed) “So, Lane–I didn’t offend you, did I?”

Me: “No worries. I’m totally plotting your revenge fic right now. I’m slashing you with a three-hundred pound gorilla with dirty fingernails and leather underwear.”

Nameless Dumbass Colleague: “Yeah, but I’m giving it, right?”

Me: “You wish. Stock up on lube, vibrator boy.”