Thursday, February 5, 2009

Murphy is the antichrist

We went out last night and bought jumper cables and decided to wait until morning to jump the Saturn.

This morning at 5:45 a.m. we went out to jump start the Saturn, and Eli was going to drive it to Bible study. Eli was in his suit and I was just dressed warmly. It took 15 minutes because he left it up to me to hook up the dead battery and I didn't have it grounded right, though I told him before that I wasn't sure where to ground it. At one point, when the Saturn wouldn't start, I offered to drive him to Bible study, but the logistics were screwy. However, once we got the battery grounded right, the car started right up. So, Eli is ready to leave in the Saturn and I go to close the hood of the Subaru, but it won't close. Eli made fun of me, but then he came to try it, and it wouldn't close for him either. Did I mention that it was freezing out this morning? Well, the latch was frozen and wouldn't catch. So, we had to go back to plan B, where I would drive Eli to Bible study and he would bum a ride to work from the judge. Eli wasn't very happy now (to his credit, he was cold and frustrated) and he kept telling me that I need to remember to turn my lights off. By the time I left him at the coffee house, I was crying and miserable and felt like a failure. Because last night I didn't turn my headlights off yesterday. :( And this was all before 6:30 this morning.

By the time I got to school, I just wanted to go back home, climb into bed, and start this day over (and this time turn the headlights off).

Fortunately, the morning went okay. My seventh graders were on their game when writing persuasive letters. And then my eighth graders came. I've asked around, and it's not just me. They are heathen baboons this week. And it just got worse and worse. I'm amazed at how many of these children just don't care about being at school. Some days I wonder why I bother to show up. Except that there are a few that get it, and I can't abandon them. It's only really a handful that drive me crazy. Anyway, by the end of 5th period (my second to last class) I had some girls that were out of control. They were being extremely disrespectful to me, back talking, and finally mocking me as they left the classroom. I held it in as best as I could, but since I was having a bad day already (I was still blaming myself for the morning's fiasco) the self talk, "Don't cry, don't cry!", only made me need to cry. (Those girls were so mean!) And I would have been okay, except one of the students coming in to class asked me if I was okay, and then I lost it. How could they not care about cheating? How could they be so flippant about it? That's what this was about, after all.

Luckily the passing period was over and the only people in the hallway were other teachers and a sprinkling of students. The librarian went down to my class while the gym teacher ushered me into the teacher's lounge. Mr. Reed came in and started talking to me in a way that led me to believe that he thinks I'm out of touch with where my students are coming from, what they bring to school as baggage. I was a little insulted. However, he did go down and pull those girls out of class and lecture them in the hallway. I went back into my classroom, and then Mr. Reed came in and proceeded to tell me, in front of this new class, how I needed to be teaching my class, what I needed to be doing--as if I were inexperienced. I was mortified, but I put on an amused face as he told his jokes and made light of my situation. And then, AND THEN, he started telling me what Harry Wong would do. I WAS WONGED! At this point I was indignant. WONG? REALLY? Only another teacher could understand the insult here. Harry Wong's books are what they recommend to FIRST YEAR teachers! School was not over soon enough.

I went to Sylvan after school and Eli called, but since I was sitting at the table with students, I couldn't answer. I sent him a text message to let him know where I was and why I wasn't answering (discreetly, of course--we're not supposed to have our phones at the table). His response was "okay." As I neared the end of the night, I sent him another text message to see if he made it home. Negatory. So I would go pick him up when I was done--at 7 p.m. I started to feel really guilty about him being there--again this goes back to me not turning my lights off last night. Ugh. So, I called him when I got off work, and told him I was on my way, and he asked if I was going to Bible study. And I started crying...again. Geez. I decided that I wouldn't go, because at this point the floodgates had opened and if I went to Bible study, I was afraid we would talk about me and not focus on God. So I picked him up and we went home. I drove home and cried the whole way, telling him about how my day went after I saw him last, and about being Wonged. He suggested that I go to bed and start again tomorrow. I agreed.

So, now that I've gotten this all off my chest and I've stopped crying and feeling sorry for my seemingly incompetent, pregnancy-brained, hormone-ridden self, I'm going to bed. Except that Eli just turned to Splash! on TV. I haven't seen this movie in a long time. I may just veg out on the couch. But I think the calling of sleep and a fresh start is stronger than the pull of a young Tom Hanks and a crazy secretary who wears her brassiere on the outside of her clothes.

And, for the record, Eli sent me an e-mail when he got to work this morning apologizing for being cranky. I understood where he was coming from, though. I would have been pretty cranky too. But that's why he's my best friend and the love of my life.


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