Do y'all see the irony in this? This is how I feel today, minus the bikini. So at the end of my rope that I just want to keep walking. Beyond the sign, thru the surf, 'til I run out of golden sand beach.
I feel a bitch coming on. Call it the End of the Semester Blues, if you will. In the past week, I have:
- Seen more crap than a livestock arena on 2-for-1 Friday (Note to self: No more "analysis" papers on The Great Gatsby. Over-analyzed. All over the Web. Situation ripe for cheaters & lazy, wannabe romantics)
- Administered way too many end-of-semester exercises. If I never see another vocab quiz, it will be too soon. No one knows~nor cares~the meaning of SAT words such as propinquity anyway, do they?
- Caught one student plagiarizing. She didn't even try to disguise her ruse. Lifted it right off the Internet. Really badly written, too, bordering on crappy sap (see Bullet Number 1).
- Caught two other students returning from a Bagel Bakery run. We're a closed campus. I'm required to bust them. Ruined their 4-day weekend (administrative referral, e-mails to angry parentals) & made me feel small.
- Caught yet another student with her sassy, disrespectful mouth open. Wanted to slap that smart-ass grin right off her face. But I didn't. I value job security, such as it is.
- Fielded a continuing flood of e-mails from concerned parentals, worried that Little Susie doesn't quite "get" English. Well, if she'd stop watching "Jersey Shore" on the Journalism Room computers, and would start doing her assignments, things would go a lot more smoothly, correctamundo?
- Read a Gatsby paper written by a 16-year-old boy that featured the word iridescent. In the first paragraph (See Bullets 1 & 3). The First Sentence. Iridescent. Jeesh!
- Hosted "make-up" parties in my room after school all week. Well, they weren't really soirées, per se. More like wakes (Note to self: Remember to tell the cherubs that if they skip on a test day, Mrs. Scribe will decidedly not be available for after-school help).
- Shoved a badly written, terribly edited Yearbook deadline out the door. Oh, well.
- Made plans to go to FLA for Spring Break with my youngest. Yes, there is a God. Somewhere.
Four months down; four more to go. I can do this. I just have to learn to set limits, oui?