One brief note before the Mobile Home #5 crew goes to the all-corps:
(Teaching last week went well, by the way. More on this later today or tomorrow.)
Thursday morning was the worst morning I've had so far. I was cursing, throwing my sweater (which I slept in in a state of exhaustion), saying things along the lines of "If they want to be lazy and never amount to anything, let 'em! See if I care!" (I actually very much do, dang it), and showering angrily.
Have you ever showered angrily? It's a miserable experience.
Anywho, I got to school and was tiredly preparing the day's handouts / approaches / etc. I looked over at my calendar. Then, I realized: this past Wednesday was the third day of my fourth week.
Namely, it should've been the last day of the block.
My betrayed but now-comprehensible angst: Where's my block break??!
This idea rallied me through the rest of the day, but now I am seriously bemoaning my non-block existence: yesterday was a full, crumby day, though cheering at the football game was pretty swell. But then again, I'm coaching, which has a different ring to it than ASB leader :). But yes, now the all-corps and revamping / creating a day by day Long-Term Plan await me on the other side of this entry.
But I was quoting "Smoke Signals" with some 7th hour peeps (who consistently cheer when they come in my classroom, so that's good) and there's at least the prospect of fry bread.
1. I NEED BLOCK BREAKS.
2. THANK GOD / ALL KACHINAS FOR FRY BREAD
Over and out, little critters,
Coach Hudson of the Pickle Room