Vesuvius erupts....
... and that does not refer to the big zit shining on my chin like some blasted solar flare. No. But...
1. Holy SHIT! Will someone-- ANYBODY-- walk two steps from their AP office to the bathrooms in the new wing and chase out the five kids who skip their last class of the day and hang out in there each and ever' day???? Because I am TIRED of running into them and chasing them out myself. I just want to go the can in peace! I only get to go once a day, and I'd like to be off duty when I take care of this little function.
2. I would politely ask that Redneck Mother, my inestimably inert department chair, to please go SOAK HIS HEAD. And since you've gotten my Okie up, that last word is pronounced, "HAY-UD."
3. How is it that my colleague Mr. Clapton (as in Eric) didn't get even an interview for Teacher of the Year finalist? This guy is what TOY should be all about! (I didn't even turn in the paperwork, since until Mr. Bipolar Helicopter Parent leaves the school board, I am the proverbial snowball in terms of chances, and that's fine.)
Gripe, whine, growl.
Labels: whinging
2 Comments:
I love these posts. Not only do I get off on the whole "misery and company" thing (I like knowing I'm not the only one spinning in tight little frustrated circles), but I also know how good it feels to get crap like this off your chest (and to get validation that you're not the only one spinning in tight little frustrated circles!).
DEEP. BREATH.
You mean you have working toilets in your building? Most of ours are kaput at this point.
(Our district doesn't do TOY -- considered un-collegial. I don't think anybody notices.)
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