What a Monday it was. It started with me waking up thirty minutes before I was supposed to be at work. It kind of went downhill from there.
Urgent email: “Do you have your ATD form ready to fax? I need it this morning.” Hmm… that will be hard since I’m with children until 2 pm. And the form has to be signed by my administrator who isn’t here today.
Phone call: ” I can’t test your student today because of x, y, and z.” Not really a problem, although I can’t return your call because I have kids in my room and I’m actually teaching them until 2 pm.
Phone call on my cell: I ignored that one, but it was to confirm a doctor’s appointment for tomorrow afternoon and I can’t make personal calls while I have kids, so it will have to wait until 2 pm.
Urgent email: “How’s that ATD form coming? I really need it right now.” See above.
Finally, 2 pm. I fill out ATD form, but the secretary is off campus and can’t okay it in the administrator’s place. Registrar asks if I’ve printed my progress reports yet. No because they weren’t printing correctly and I had to have our tech person do her voodoo with my laptop. So I head upstairs to print progress reports one at a time. I get through about half of them when I realize it’s time to pick up my kids, so they sit unfinished, I haven’t called the doctor back and the ATD form has not been faxed. I have forgotten to go to the bathroom as well.
I take my kids out for recess, and as we’re lining up to go to dismissal areas, one of mine pounds another child, punching him in the head. It took three classmates and I to pull him off. I get a really, really firm grip on both of them and take them to the office as the bell rings. I want to pound my student personally, I’m so mad at him, but I refrain and decide not to speak and say something I will regret. I deposit them both, call our Media Specialist, who gets to be our faux administrator because he used to be one, and head out to bus duty.
Bus duty is hot, loud, and smelly. I leave early to check on the boy who got beat up. Then I head upstairs to tutor for two hours.
After six I get home and find that my dog would not leave his crate earlier when my ex stopped by to take her out. Awesome. She was crated for over ten hours. Guilt…
So now I’ve nuked some nasty side dish and I’m going to bed. I give up. Tomorrow will be better. I’m sure of it.