Blah Blah Blah
Don't really have much to say tonight. I slept like shit last night - I swear it was like I had nerves going back to school! Then today I'm in the lunchroom and I hear other teachers talking about the same thing; e.g. they couldn't sleep, they've been teaching for ten years and they still get 'jitters' the night before. Weird. It's like I never outgrew it. So I'm exhausted tonight, plus my stomach is upset and shall we say, causing me to visit the loo every few minutes.
The first day back was pretty blah, hence the title of this blog. The kids were as self-centered and out of control as usual. Even the art teacher told them they were out of control. I can't get over, no matter how many times I see and hear it for myself in my classroom, day after day, how I can ask, tell, beg, plead, yell at these kids to be quiet and for about two seconds while I'm telling them to be quiet, they'll be quiet, and then they just immediately start talking again. Oh I made mistakes big time in the beginning of the year. With kids like these, I'm not sure anything or anyone could tame them. But I know now I should have come down on them hard and consistently and been much, much more consistant in my discipline. Now I am paying the price for my niceness and inconsistancy. Little fuckers. Driving me batshit crazy.
They were ALL over the Britney Spears story. I had to shut that one down in a hurry. Then Clayton calls Britney 'mentally retarded'. Jesus! Now I am NO fan of Britney's and I'll be the first to say the girl is obviously quite ill and has many mental issues, but she's clearly NOT retarded. I had to tell him "Clayton, we don't use the word retarded anymore and she's NOT retarded. Let's just say she has issues."
Then as the kids were writing the final outlines for their 'autobiographies' (yes, the story of their ever so exciting and long 10 year-old lives) they had to start thinking about what kind of careers they'd want. Someone asked if teachers made a lot of money and you could just HEAR the disdain in the voices of those that said "They don't make anything." Clearly being a teacher is not something these spoiled kids would EVER aspire to. I know a lawyer - a real asshole, (not to mention an absentee father, alcoholic and a womanizer), who voiced his huge disappointment than two of his four children turned out to be teachers. I guess it's just not classy enough and certainly there's just not enough money in it and isn't that what it's all about?
Today was obviously NOT a day I felt near and dear to my class. Tomorrow is my grandma's funeral - well, her interment. She didn't want a church service, so no church service. Hardly anyone is coming anyway - she outlived all her siblings and friends. I was able to take the day off from work as paid bereavement leave and I didn't have to use a sick day. I'm paranoid about using my sick days, can you tell? My psycho step-grandfather will be there. I hope he doesn't throw himself on the casket or start beating everyone up with his cane. I say this with all seriousness. It will be definitely a two Xanax day. Her caretaker of the last four years will be there. She really loved my grandma. When I was uploading all the pictures of Ella from my camera, I discovered I'd taken a picture of my grandma with her caretaker at my mom's house last Christmas. It's actually a pretty good picture. I'll post it here. My grandma's caretaker's name is Dahlia. She's Filipino (am I spelling that right?) and I can't understand a word she says, but she was always the best to my grandma, and I'll always be grateful for that.
Finally, a friend of mine is going through a nightmarish time with her mom, who is very sick and in the hospital. My heart is breaking for her and other than pray, I can't think of anything else to do. Life seems so capricious and fragile to me these days. People getting sick, institutions like my grandma dying, middle age - it's all happening at once and it's not any fun at all. Nights like tonight I feel so defeated I wonder if I could ever feel happy again. I heard it might rain tomorrow. That'll just make everything so perfect. Ugh.
Photo: Dahlia and my late grandmother Mary, Christmas, 2006