Panic! It's a quiz!

Or at least that's how most of my Spanish 2 students feel.  It actually makes me panic as well because after you grade the first quiz, you have an idea for how long of a year it's going to be.  And let's just say that with some of these students, getting them to learn Spanish might feel like I'm teaching them until May of 2015.  Not that it's helped by a lovely student I'm getting to know who keeps telling me he is going to fail.  Ok, I'm sure you'll be fine, I say .  Finally after the 4th time of him telling me I should just put an F on his paper, I ask him if he's even studied.  He looks at me incredulously and says, "Ha. No!"  (Of which I'm pretty sure he censored out the "hell no" for my benefit.) Ok, great.  I just sweetly reply, "Fabulous.  You might not pass then.  Why are you taking this class, can you remind me?" "Uh, to get into college!"  Great.  I think that's going to go well for you. (Don't worry I kept that to myself.  This is why I blog, people!)  FYI, he's super busy practicing for football.  Just ask him.

And this just in:  A Spanish 4 student just very firmly told me that the word "anyway" wasn't in the dictionary (again after I sweetly told him to look it up himself.  I'm full of sweetness today, I swear.)  I said, "Are you sure? I don't believe you."  "It's not in there, I swear!!"  I take the dictionary and then have to politely inform him that he is looking in the Spanish to English side.  "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh."  Yeah, welcome to level 4, buddy.  Also known as Library 110 apparently.

wow.

That's all I have to say .  Second day of school, first embarrassing moment of the year.  The side zipper in my dress went out.  IN CLASS.  In front of my new students.  All I knew is that I felt air on my side and looked down and a string of profanities ran through my head. Hoping no one had noticed, I walked back to my desk and tried to run the Clicker program from there until I could run to get a safety pin 10 minutes later.  I made it but after assessing the damage, I realized there was no way it was even semi-salvageable with a few well-placed safety pins so I decided to change.  Thankfully, and I cannot stress that word enough, I had another change of clothes in the car because I have to run straight to a rehearsal dinner after work.

So I run back to my class trying to hold my dress shut (and do you have any idea how hard that is when it's on the side and a good foot and a half of you is exposed? really awkward and difficult is the answer), and tell my new class, "Umm...sorry but my dress just broke so I have to go change!"  As I'm running out of the room a girl asks me, "Can I go to my locker?"  I reply with an exasperated voice, "I don't care where you go, my dress is broken!"

Yeah, so that was my Friday.  Welcome, new students.  Bow chicka wow wow, obvi.

Did you know...

That the above image can cause severe panic and chaos in the workplace?  Yes, friends, it can.  Due to some unfortunate cuts, we lost an employee for this coming school year that used to make all of our copies.  Which was awesome, to be sure.  However, not a reality anymore.  And probably you're not going to die of a brain aneurysm if you try to work it.  ( The machine, not your body, although the latter could loosen up a few people...)

I decided to make lemons out of lemonade, or rather 700 copies in an hour, out of the situation.  I had two machines going at once and became BFF's with the electric 3 hole puncher.  Man, I love that thing.  If grammar and I ever break up, (*gasp* and perish the thought), I may consider dating this beauty: 

So while I was running around doing all of those things and maximizing the hell out of my time, I also had to deal with some disgruntled coworkers who just couldn't handle the thought of making her own copies.  So I tried to help her unclog the machine (that she had jammed by opening the drawer while my own delightful yellow copies were being made) and still no respite from the stress.  I even promised lessons on the machine but I don't think that helped.  Then another coworker (not directed at me but at someone else) got upset that this person was making 200 copies.  Uhhh...it's after 4, dude.  It's going to be okay.  Wait in line like everyone else.  (Oh yeah, I did that.  I sat in the chair with my yellow paper and played solitaire until it was my turn.  You have to be in it to win it here, folks.  Or maybe just have patience when making copies.)

Ok, the real secret to why I'm not stressed about this?  Because in typical me fashion, I was always behind anyway on turning in my forms to be copied so I have almost always had to do them myself.  Now I just don't have to feel as guilty about it.  Plus it was the best part of my job in college.  What can I say?  I get pretty stoked about office supplies and tools.  (Although not the office tools I worked with in the form of males.  That had weird names...that rhymed with mine...or weird hair...but I digress.)

I'm so sorry

But I've been a bad blogger lately.  Thank you, Ashley, for pointing that out.  Pretty much since my last post, I returned home for 48 hours, went on vacation for a week to a lake in Minnesota with the fam, then returned home to a mess of craziness and out-of-town visitors and general un-preparedness for school to start.  Oh yes, and I read like it was my job.  Because I didn't have a job.  And while I had other things to do, those also didn't pay me money, so I figured I do something I wanted to do that also didn't pay me money, aka read.  Nonfiction books set in Afghanistan have topped the list as well as a foray into Tolstoy (the Russian names in Anna Karenina are severely off-putting at first but I'm trying to power through) and now I'm at a ceasefire with reading because I actually have to work.  What is that about??

I'm sitting in my classroom typing this (after hours, it's totally appropriate) and I'm pretty sure the same fly that annoyed me back in May is still here.  That rocks.