Back to Work After Thanksgiving

Going back to work is like entering the sixth circle of hell when you are a teacher. Yes, it was lovely having those five days off; turkey, coffee in the mornings, sleeping in, peeing when I wanted and good friends and family. But coming back to school is like choosing to hang out on the wrong side of the tracks when you were a kid.

Here are some things that happened today:

1) When I woke up at 5:15am, I quickly realized that the day before I slept 4.5 hours more than at that waking moment.

2) Coffee isn’t just to wake me up in the mornings. On school days it is literally comfort food to get me through the bad classes. Kind of like eating chocolate during your period. If I didn’t do it, I would murder the whole class.

3) I want it to be quiet in the classroom. Coming back to school after break is the equivalent to the hangover you had after your 21st birthday. You just want silence and a bed… and greasy food to get you through.

4) Pants. I had to put on work pants. I have been living in my pajamas for five days. Work pants just hug my rolls and it’s definitely not in all the right places.

5) I had to pack lunch like I am so kind of nomad. And of course when you are eating at 10:40 am, a sensible diet shake is the last thing you want to ‘eat.’ God, I hate skinny bitches; I am over here drinking my meal while you are complaining your size 2 pants are too large.

6) I had an evaluation today. Seriously? I am vacation hungover. I am barely functioning at adult standards let alone a working, successful adult. Why are you hitting me up on the first day back. Are we animals?

7) During break, I was sadly on Facebook more than the average person. When I went back today, I felt so lost. I didn’t know who was sweating at the gym and what people had for breakfast.

8) I have been getting like ten hours of sleep this break. Today, I literally fell asleep sitting straight up at my desk grading projects. I think I have narcolepsy.

9) The administration decided to have a faculty meeting today. You couldn’t pay me enough to care.

10) Today, I had s kid randomly screaming, ‘I got hit with a skittle- taste the rainbow!’ Why was he saying this? I don’t know because no one had Skittles. What the hell.

Until next time,

Teachers are more then turkey drunk. We are freedom drunk when we are on break.

Starbucks

Starbucks never disappoints. I especially enjoy when I put my headphones in my ears but forget to turn on my music. Today, was one of those days and then I overheard two high school girls talking.

‘I am so excited. This will be the best thing ever!’ -first girl

‘Uh, yeah. I am so excited and this is the best thing we have like ever done!’ -second girl

‘Yeah, she will be super proud of us!’ -first girl

‘Oh my God. If we get her to like cry, that would be the best!’ -second girl

‘Yeah it would. This is so perfect; like what could go wrong?’ -first girl

Ok, listen small children. So many things could go wrong.

1) one of you gets grounded for talking like an asshole.

2) someone destroys your hopes and dreams because that’s how life really is and it’s mostly because of they way you talk and your overuse of the word, ‘like.’

3) maybe you both are trying too hard and you talk like valley girls and like people hate that and suddenly like, you have no friends like.

4) someone punches you in the face because of the way you talk and you bleed out.

5) I run over you with my car because you are annoying as fuck and you like, die.

Well, at least I have a coffee.

Until next time,

Peace out like sauerkraut

Count These…

So as a teacher, I understand the importance of homework, however let me enlighten you on what really gets on my nerves. It’s the homework that requires elementary students to count items.

First off, counting items means I have to acquire the same fucking item 50 -120 times according to tonight’s homework. Have you seen my house? I can’t find anything let alone a grouping of 50-120 items.

Then they give you suggestions, like that is helpful. ‘Count 50-120 cheerios, beans, pennies, or dirt on your carpet…’

First off, the cheerios aren’t open. Secondly, am I really going to open up a can of black beans so my son can play with my fajita topping? Third, does anyone even have pennies anymore?

This is more of a homework assignment for me. I don’t want to fucking count 50 pennies. 

I made my kid count pumpkin seeds. It got the job done but it grossed me out watching the oil slide around the dirty table top because face it, I haven’t cleaned the table since Saturday. Now his hands are all oily and my kid is sitting there counting pumpkin seeds by 2’s, 5’s and 10’s. 

Do you, elementary teacher, know how painful it is to watch my kid count by 2’s and then freaking 5’s and then 10’s? It’s like watching paint dry but you are also on fire, while stepping on legos. 

Until next time,

Who’s got a lighter?