I'm tired of students waiting until I walk by their desk 15 minutes into class and discover that they don't have a pen or pencil and not using those wonderful things known as common sense, independent responsibility, and autonomy to get up off their lazy arses and find one themselves. Honestly. I'll have to remind them to keep inhaling and exhaling next.
I'm tired of students who get angry when they get caught breaking rules. Whatever happened to shame, regret, and guilt?
I'm tired of seeing broken children from broken families. Don't people get married and stay married anymore? Not that a single person can't raise a kid well (my mum did a great job) but I see a strong correlation in poor (not in the financial sense) students and broken homes in my job.
I'm tired of this damn cough I've had for over two weeks. It gives me headaches every day and it takes me ages to fall asleep, only to be woken up repeatedly by bouts of coughing any time I drift into the waking world.
I'm especially tired today because at the very end of the day I got a desperate e-mail from a student who feared going home, gave me some horrid details of why she feared going home, and so I had to deal with the messy call to a child abuse hotline that had shitty hold muzak playing, only to be told to wait until tomorrow morning to see how the kid was doing then. I'm glad I had a fantastic counselor to help me make the call. I hate making them. They always feel pointless in the end.
I'm tired of students not listening when I ask them to stop talking REPEATEDLY and I'm especially tired when I finally resort to handing them a detention and then they act like I never warned them and that they're going to shank me out in the parking lot because all I am is a spiteful bitch, not someone who is just trying to get her job done and help kids. This is made more difficult when the classroom teacher him/herself doesn't tell them to be quiet, so I'm the freaking bad cop every single time. Not many kids get this bad, but the few that do it take up all my damn time and energy.
I'm tired of members of my department (special ed.) not doing their bloody job and making the rest of us look bad and -even worse- leaving the kids up shit creek without a paddle.
I'm tired because I'm a lazy bastard who was used to napping back in the Old Country and miss it horribly.
I'm tired of this irrelevant paper I have to write for my graduate class. The class is supposed to be about teaching kids to read in all subject areas and the paper is about the effect of various drugs on kids' learning. I'm aware of how important that information is, but it's got fuck all to do with the subject at hand.
I've decided to prescribe myself a few solutions to my stress and exhaustion.
One: Listen to Yakkity Sax (theme music for the Benny Hill Show) every day on my drive home from work. I've done it twice and it made me laugh both times. It even makes the asshole who weave in and out of traffic look hilarious. You imagine they're driven by a bunch of irate husbands chasing after good old Benny who cuckolded them.
Two: Get a massage. From anyone. Except creepy janitor guy who keeps offering. Ew. He keeps telling all the female teachers that he is a qualified and that some of his clients like to be massaged while mostly undressed. WHO are these clients?! He once gave a hot teacher his own "special massage lotion" he kindly put into one of those small black canisters you keep camera film in. Ew.
Three: Eat better. I feel better when I do.
In relation to number three, my husband took me out recently for my birthday when I thought we wouldn't be able to, and I got to try my first sample of molecular gastronomy. We went to a modern Spanish tapas bar and one of the dishes I had was partly an exploration of the flavor of olives. There wasn't a real olive to be seen, but there was some gritty dark stuff that tasted like concentrated olive bits, and there were two globules that very much resembled olives but turned out to be small artificial sacs of olive flavored liquid. When I bit into them, a burst of olive flavor flooded my mouth. Entertaining, but it didn't compare to the purity and simplicity of a prawn dish I got there that is only available two weeks out of the year because during those two weeks, these prawns carry their cavier and can be cooked along with their own roe and then enjoyed together. The cavier was nice, though it seemed to have absorbed a considerable amount of the spices involved in the dish (tasted like curry to me) which detracted from its actual flavor, but the prawn itself was the true crowning glory. I showed no shame in licking the juices off of my fingers because the cost of losing that flavor was far greater than any embarrassment caused by a weird looking pregnant woman licking her own digits.
It wasn't my favorite restaurant in the area, but I'm glad I went and tried all that I did. I still think about those prawns...
Please forgive my derailed train of thought. As I have started repeatedly, I'm tired, and I'm struggling to think straight.