A brief look at my week thus far, plus a glimpse of my Ben & Jerry's Stressbusters Diet:
Monday: Yearbooks delivered to the Journalism Office. Yearbook Staff chicas make progress on the program they've designed for graduation. Newspaper seniors shriek at one another over upcoming Senior Issue. I refuse to mediate, preferring instead to sell 116 yearbooks in one day. Mrs. Scribe stops at 7-11 on the way home & purchases, then consumes, a tasty LARGE bag of Peanut M&M's.
Tuesday: Senior issue runs into production problems. 9th-grader suffers meltdown. I attend mind-numbing, but basically mandatory, retirement party for teachers I don't particularly care for. Yearbook staff starts distribution after school. Many choruses of Senior Angst. Mrs. Scribe stops at the Gyro Place on the way home, with a side trip to the grocery store for 2 pints of Ben & Jerry's New York Super Fudge Chunk. They were on sale, ya know!
Wednesday: Senior issue of the newspaper arrives. Students distribute, I melt into a little puddle on a couch in the main office. Respond to countless more e-mails. Help underclass journalistas work on their last issue of the year. Graduation program corrected, proofed, corrected, proofed, sent out for printing, with no guarantee that the dern thing is done. I sell yearbooks, skip lunch to sell more yearbooks, administer a final exam to 6th- & 7th-period seniors, grade said exam, enter grades, induct a few Cherubs into the Journalism Honor Society, jackass several boxes of yearbooks prior to after-school distribution, answer frantic questions from students, parents & teachers while trying to remain pleasant, snag a slice of pizza at the Spanish Honor Society meeting, total up about $3,000 in yearbook receipts, deposit said funds with finance office. Mrs. Scribe stops at Starbucks on the way home for a latte & a double-fudge brownie.
Today: More yearbook distribution janx on the horizon. Brought my lunch today, so at least I can regulate that. Mrs. Scribe plans to stop by the French Club's end-of-year party after school. Crêpes & parfaits could be calling her name.
So, the question I have for y'all: Who needs Jenny Craig?