Hell hath no fury and Margaritas = sleepy time.
I went back to school after being sick to find my classroom in shambles. Shredded paper and broken crayons littered my floors. My desks had been vandalized with pen scribbles of "Indo" and "Slik" - the same "words" that were all over the rest of campus. The supply boxes that I'd paid for and put together myself were broken and mostly empty. The same students who depended on those boxes for pencils, sharpeners, tape, and glue had taken advantage of my naivete (the fact that I'd trusted them enough to leave them out in my absence).
So I decided to become their worst nightmare upon my return. I cleaned my classroom, put away the boxes, and put together my own version of the standards my kids were used to(ie 100 lines of "I will not chew gum in class"). Never before had my class been so quiet upon entering the room.
That'll show 'em.
So my teacher friends (so called because they are teachers and all of our conversations are about middle schoolers) and I have a little ritual we refer to as "book club" when around our students. Those weekly happy hours are sometimes the only thing you can look forward to in a week full of "f--- you" and "I don't care, call my mom." This week was no different. Between Monday evening classes and Tuesday's Parent/Teacher conferences it was a humdinger of a week.
This week, we found a nice little Mexican restaurant down the street from our school (nevermind that our students could be lurking around any corner). Whatever, it was Friday and the Margaritas were strong. So strong, in fact, that after 1 small drink I needed a nap - badly. It was at that moment that I thought back to Case's Senior Week 2006 (Disorientation). I remember the Bar Crawl, which involved tons more than one baby margarita and went on until 4 a.m. I knew I had changed since becoming a teacher, but at what point did I get so old that one drink could put me out of commission for an entire weekend?
I had expected the earlier bed times. I had accepted the mundane reality of routine. I hadn't expected the desperate need for orthopedic shoes. And I was nowhere near ready to accept the fast effects of a small shot of tequila (although it does decrease my entertainment expenses).
At the same time, I suppose that change is as inevitable as they say it is. If I was able to go out and party it up on a daily basis, I probably wouldn't have the drive to do what I do. If I wanted the maintain that same college lifestyle, I wouldn't have decided to join the adult world and take on the task of preparing other people's children for the world.
So I guess in reality, once I signed that contract I did accept all that I said I hadn't. Damn.
Comments
Posted by: David
Posted on: September 24, 2006 10:02 AM
Only one drink, Laura? You're letting me down. Who'd have thought that the one time I actually look at the CaseBlog headlines I'd actually see your blog entry?
Keep your head up. Life changes, brings a whole new set of challenges to struggle with and eventually conquer, and before long you'll be ready for another change. I know you'll be able to put at least a few of those kids back on the right track. Who could possibly resist that smile...
Peace,
David