First of all–Hi Rae!!! Glad to see you!!!
Second–Julie’s got the COOLEST meme over at Samurai, and I’m getting in on the action for my next post…
Third–this is gonna blow your mind.
Have you ever had one of those wet-kitten-hanging-on-a-branch-over-a-fucking-waterfall days?
My morning was like that.
First of all, my work keys seem to have disappeared from the car while the car was at the dealership. There’s another option as well, but the upshot is that they were NOT in the car when my husband got it last night, and I knew I was going to have to deal with the keyless hassle, YET A-FUCKING-GAIN. But, well, shit, I could have done it. And then several things happened.
The first was that the Cave Troll had an OCD meltdown of epic proportions–that lasted an hour and fifteen minutes. How could a tantrum last that long, you might ask? Well, most of it was in the car…in fact, 35 minutes of it was sitting at the SAME DAMN STOPLIGHT. So, well, in spite of the fact that I have 1st period prep, yeah, I was obviously late for work.
But, well, that’s okay, I figured. Usually if the teacher isn’t there, security will open the door and let your kids in, and while embarrassing, it’s no bfd. Now I didn’t have the keys to let me in the back gate, but, well, I called the front office to see if they could call my room and have a kid come let me in.
I waited for a moment…no dice. I spotted a sprinkler cover floating free on the ground, and tossed it at the metal grid surrounding my windows, to get the attention of the kids sitting there.
I finally flagged down an aid who was about to walk into another classroom, and he let me in. I walked into my classroom semi-annoyed–I mean, geez, guys, you can’t cut me a break and let me in?
My principal opened the door, the grand prickweenie shit-sausage himself. He didn’t smile. He didn’t ask me if I was okay. He didn’t ask for an explanation for my lateness. He ignored me, finished boring my kids with shit he pulled out of his ear, and left. I turned to the kids with my “geez, guys, you couldn’t cut me a break and…”
“He wouldn’t let us!!!!!”
“We were going to let you in–he said, “No, let her figure it out for herself.””
“I beg your pardon?”
“He didn’t let us go get you.”
“Are you sh…I mean kidding me?”
A few minutes later, he walks in to observe my class. They’re excited by now–I’ve given them their project papers and they’re totally into them. Group projects with stories they enjoyed…they’re like, 95% on task. I walk up to him and try to explain–he doesn’t look at me, he doesn’t respond, and I turn back around and go to my desk, thinking about reasons I want him dead.
He leaves, and the kids look at me, and the general consensus–both theirs and mine–was “ASS-hole!!!!!”
I mean, seriously, people–this is my lead fucking professional? This festering sphincter boil is what I”m supposed to follow and admire? I would rather take orders from flaming troll boogers than from this complete goat-rutting-prick-scabbing-cockroach turd.
He’s throwing a penis-party, I mean lunch meeting tomorrow, and I have opted not to go.
And if he asks about me, the other members of my department have been asked to respond, “She’s guessing you’ll figure it out for yourself.”