Monday, December 3, 2007

HM's Procrastination Makes Her Bitter

Ho ho ho! The postman hates me. I had a notice for 2 packages on Saturday. Today, I rushed like a madwoman to get there 5 minutes before closing. The #1 son came out with 5 packages. Oh, and for the record, he also refused to use the CRUTCH to hold up the back door of the LSUV. Like me, he preferred to let it slam on his head, then wriggle it down to waist level while he ducked in and arranged his packages.

HH came home with the necessary parts for repair. $60. There's one less present for HH. He'll never know. He always gets me way less than I get him. But who's counting. HH put those thingies on in about 10 minutes. I don't know what he's done with the crutch.

Yesterday, it was OH SO WINDY. HH said he was going to burn the cardboard that we toss into the dishwasher void, behind the kitchen wastebasket. The winds were gusting to 39 mph. After a half hour, I called him. "What is taking so long? I can't believe you are burning trash in these winds." HH answered back, "I'm not burning them outside. I'm in my cabin. I'm burning them in my wood stove." HH. The mother of invention. At least, the mother.

We had a lengthy faculty meeting this afternoon. It's virtually unheard-of outside Basementia. We learned of many items we need turned in before Christmas break. So now I've got more work to do. OK. I've known since school started that I needed these 18 items. Some people might have even more. But in true teacher fashion, we've been putting it off. You never know when something might happen. Like the teachers who sign up to chaperone the last dance of the year. You never know. Dances might be outlawed, and then all those other poor suckers will have done their free duty for nothing. And we also learned that it's not necessarily a good idea to request early out days to be days of reading for the last 30 minutes. Because, you know, we still have 30 minutes instead of 50 for meaningful educational activities to continue. Even if it IS the last 30 minutes before Christmas Break, and the semester ends that day at 12:45, and finals have been given two days earlier, and many people actually prefer to have their grades done and turned in, and not have to do them first thing when coming back after New Year. Because apparently, reading is not a meaningful educational activity on the last day before Christmas Break, but merely something we adjust the schedule to do for 30 minutes every Friday, and even though the early out day before Christmas IS a Friday, we will still have 15 minutes instead of 50 for meaningful educational activity to take place what with the adjusted schedule. How dare we expect to READ for that time! Of course we must give an assignment, and grade it over the holidays. What were we thinking?

Teaching. The job that never ends. The gift that keeps on giving. By that, I mean the work that begets more work, every time you think you are caught up. Until summer, that is. Oops. I remember this summer. When I had that two weeks of work that wasn't even mine to do at the end of the year. Bah! Humbug!

The school year is almost over, you know. But the work will never end.

2 comments:

Just A Girl said...

Glad to hear you won't suffer another concussion.

Hillbilly Mom said...

Gal,
Yes, indeed! That's good to know. And I won't suffer the embarrassment of propping open my door with a crutch, which is even better!