8 Days

Did you ever really break down what 8 days left really means? Have you?

8 days left means that:

• A child writes his name on the bathroom wall. In public! Can you imagine what must have been going through his mind to destroy public property in such a horrific fashion? Did I mention that he wrote it with his own feces?

8 days left means that:

• Everything is multiplied by 4. The number of times a child says my name to get my attention. The messiness of my classroom. The amount of money I am taking from children's accountability checkbooks each day. Ain't nobody going to have any cash come Super!Fun Reward Day.

8 days left means that:

• Homework is a mere annoyance. There is really no need to complete such silliness. Parents will get you out of it, anyway! Afterall, they're taking you out of school 4 days early to go on your Disney World for 4 days/cruise for 7 days combo! Silly teacher...

8 days left means that:

• Teachers no longer speak to each other in the halls. You measure someone's day by how high they roll their eyes and how many times they shake their heads when they pass you in the hall. If they make wrist slitting motions, the day is exceptionally poor.

8 days left means that:

• The principal who is retiring doesn't come to school anymore. Especially when her furniture is being delivered to her new house. There was a TAKS math re-test today, but she's getting new furniture. Priorities.

Everyone's done. Finished. Checked out. Except for teachers who are supposed to complete report cards, reorder and clean out cumulative folders, back up all computer data, hunt down missing library books, collect fines, clean out classroom (but not too early), collect end of year testing data, analyze assessment data, enter and report assessment data, place students in new classes, plan and participate in field day/award day/leadership day/Super!Fun day, etc. Oh, and teach. We're supposed to teach too. That's all I have to say about that. Harumph.