We had a good weekend. On Saturday we volunteered at our church's fall festival -- Eli at the "pumpkin bowling" booth, and I got roped into face painting (gladly, though). Turns out that I'm not too shabby with my impressionistic sensibilities.
Sunday, I came home from church and took a short 3-hour nap, and them immediately returned to church to help pack boxes for Operation Christmas Child. I didn't actually do any packing. I was a designated wrapper, and it seems that I have quite the reputation now for exquisite paperwork. Eli had lunch with Scott today (our pastor, who is my age) and Scott told him the church ladies were raving about my skills. Yes, that's right, I've got skillz.
I of course didn't want to go back to work today (after the Friday from HECK), but then realized that it always gets better. And, for the most part, it was. Until sixth period. But that's neither here nor there.
And right now I need some prayer in dealing with my students, one in particular. After walkers/car riders and first bus load are called, I have two students left in my class. One, R, is driving me crazy. I want to scream, cry, hit him, knock some sense into him as he talks about all the girls he likes, the ones that he broke up with, the ones that he likes to make cry, the ones that he's trying to get to cheat on their boyfriends with him. I can't believe that this is coming from a 13-year-old. He talks about how he emotionally hurts girls on purpose. It really makes me sick and I wish I could tattoo something on his forehead that would warn girls to stay away. In addition to all that crap, he also is always showing off his abs, and I have asked him to stop and told him that I would write him up if he continued to show his underwear. He's gross. And it makes my skin crawl to be in the same room as him. Again, teenagers are aliens. Gross aliens.
No comments:
Post a Comment