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I have survived another set of progress reports! (muted cheers and applause) For you non-teachers out there, giving interim progress reports is No Fun. First, you spend several days (if you're me) finishing any grading that's been piling up while you deal with stuff like lesson planning and disciplinary issues. You don't have time to grade papers at school (you don't have time to PEE at school), so you do this at home. You completely cease doing laundry, cleaning, or cooking. Forget grocery shopping, too. Eat stale Chee-tos for breakfast. Wear your elderly flannel from the back of the closet, just for variety. Next, spend at least two nights staying up until 2 AM, entering grades into your uncooperative computer. Yes, you keep getting up at 5 to go to school. You're only allowed to sleep during Buffy and dinner (old goldfish crackers and potted meat, yum!) Finally, hand out the Grades of Doom. Expect tears. The poor wee darlings know that Santa reads and signs Progress Reports. Plan for the next few days to start at 8 AM, not your contractual 8:30, so you can have conferences with many Suddenly Concerned Parents. (Yes, the same ones you've been trying to reach since September.) Be prepared to give them, for the fourth time, your e-mail address, home phone number, and shoe size. Don't worry; they won't be bothering you. They will, however, complain to the principal, in May, about how hard it is to reach you. This year, for grins, we've added stomach flu (we're having projectile distance vomiting competition in the hallway) and retching, gacking bronchitis. Oh, and our teacher is violently depressed, because she's turning 40 on Sunday. My kids have seen all of my considerable collection of black clothing, as I mourn my third decade's passing. Here's the fun plot twist: what do exhausted English teachers do after all this activity? We go out for high tea at an old Victorian house in Ghent!(Almost good enough for Isobel, too.) Ah, rose-scented caffeine in porcelain cups with actual saucers! Three-tiered tea dainties! (I call them pu-pu platters with manners.) Handsome young waiters! (These folks know their clientele are mostly wimminfolks.) Note to self: take the Grandbarons out for tea! Take many pictures! On the Headbone:a ska version of "Joy to the World"
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Tea, anyone?