My work day, that is. AWFUL. One thing after another, giant cluster F***, a terrible, no good, very bad day! Let's take a walk through the ventorium, shall we?
The day started out as any normal, get-me-the-hell-out-of-here Friday does. Plan right off the bat while the rest of school goes to mass. Then I had 3rd grade art in my music class, since I got booted out of the art room. Fine. Whatever. The kids were a bit rowdy since this was not our routine. Once I got them settled down and started on their project, in walks the chaos.
Apparently every year the kindergarten has a treasure hunt throughout the first floor of our school. Super. Sounds like fun. Not for me, though. So outside my classroom is a treasure chest filled with dollar store recorders. Inside the directions tell them to
come inside the music classroom and identify instruments from 3 different musical families. Was I given any notice? Any warning? Any email? NOPE. So while I'm having class, in walks K'ers with a parent leader, interrupting my class. First off - no, you have no right to tell your kids to come in my classroom if you haven't asked me. Second, there are
four different families of instruments, five if you count the voice. So how was I supposed to know which you were talking about? And then I am made out to look like the bad guy because we've only talked about one family of instruments this year.
This goes on through my art class and my 3rd grade music class. I've given up on doing anything productive, because whatever I do is just going to get interrupted. After that class leaves, I have 20 min. of plan before I head off to lunch. This, for some reason, made the parents think that not only could they come in my class, but that they could make me explain things to the kids that their kids could play the percussion instruments without asking.
Uh, excuse me? Are you serious?!After I finally got over this and shrugged it off, it was time for lunch. I heat up last night's leftovers and sit down in the teacher's lounge. Then in walks Mrs. K, fuming at the ears.
"Who in your classes did you let steal out of the treasure chest? How could you? I had two kids not get a recorder because one of yours stole them!"
"Um, no, my kids were in my class working on my lessons."
"Well what classes did you have and how long were they in the hallway?"
"I had two third grade classes and neither were in the hallway. The both switched classes with another room from this hallway."
And on and on it went, her accusing me of something that neither me or my kids did. And not once did I call her out on not informing anyone in my hallway that they were going to get bombarded with rowdy kindergarteners.
After breaking out in hives over this situation, in comes the 7th grade, my most loathed class and surprise surprise, two of them don't have their projects despite the fact that they had an extra week to do it. And they wouldn't settle down. I gave up. I just sat there while the guys acted like fools.
When my first 8th grade class walked in, I thought I'd stepped into a Discovery channel special on monkeys in the wild because that's just how they were acting. Defeated, I sat at my desk. Then I heard H, one of the boys, shout at B ,"Quit being so gay!!" So I replied, "
Excuse me?" to which he smarted back, "What? You heard me!" I am so done with this school year and these kids.
The last class of the day, I didn't even try. I took them outside to play. I have no more energy, no more umph - nothing. I am very glad to be home now, sitting in my recliner.
This is how I felt today:
