Venting

Here I am trying to write a quiz for my students to take on Friday (being so proactive because it's only Wednesday, after all), when I hear one of the cats throwing up. I immediately go running to find the culprit and attempt to move him to a non-carpeted area. I was too late. It was the kitten. Again.

We find cat vomit all the time. All the time, I say! The kitten (still unnamed) doesn't seem to understand that he isn't a stray anymore. It's like he lives by the feast-or-famine rule and always thinks that the food will someday disappear, and that he will be back on the streets scavenging. As such, he eats a lot. A lot, I say! And as such, he vomits.

He also wakes us up every morning about 15-30 minutes before my alarm goes off. Not cool.

The other one, Richard Parker, the eldest and so-called example for the kitten, continues to pee on my furniture. Two days ago, he peed on my quilt that was on the couch. Sorry Mom and Dad; I hope it doesn't smell when you use it in two weeks. And today, I stopped at Subway for dinner on my way home from the gym because Chris had a work thing he was going to and I really didn't want to eat another frozen dinner, and when I got home (ten minutes after Chris left), Richard Parker had peed on the couch. Again.

For those of you who don't know, this has been a problem for almost a year and a half. We have tried everything, including depression medication. At what point do I say, "That's enough"? (And yes, the question mark is supposed to be on the outside of the quotation mark because the statement inside is not a question, rather it is the whole sentence).

And all of this is on top of my already overwhelmed feeling from work. I bring it home everyday. I grade papers, plan lessons, agonize about their success, and worry about my job status for next year (last hired, first fired) all the time. I can't seem to relax.

And spring break is still over two weeks away!!!

AHHHHHH!

I hope you have found my venting enjoyable. I just wish I had some ice cream. Maybe if I think really hard, Chris will sense my need and stop for some on his way home.

If you can hear me honey, Ben and Jerry's Half Baked.

Happy Memorial Day!

For those of you who don't live in Charlotte, allow me to explain. You see, this city is not built to handle snow. As you may remember, I have already posted about the ridiculous snow day of January. As it turns out, we had another one since then.

In states that are accustomed to snow, snow days are built into the schedule, allowing the schools to miss a certain amount of days without having to make them up.

However, here in Charlotte, we have lost two teacher work-days in order to make up for lost time. I won't bore you with the details, because to be honest, I don't understand them. But essentially, I now have to go in for a workday on my first day of Spring Break.

The first three days of Spring Break were supposed to be the make-ups days, but I guess the community thought that was a bad idea, so just the teachers have to come in.

Now, this left us with a major problem yesterday as all of the news channels were calling for 4-8 inches on snow overnight. So last night at about ten, the superintendent decided to cancel school for today and will be asking the Board to approve Memorial Day as the next make-up day, making today, Monday, March 2, a holiday for all staff and students.

So, Happy Memorial Day everybody!

This year, my birthday happens to fall on Memorial Day. Does this mean I should have cake and ice cream tonight to celebrate?

The universe works in mysterious ways

For the past three weeks, I have been teaching my freshmen about personal narratives. We read some examples, and then they were to write their own.

I gave them lots of time to practice in class. It was like pulling teeth.

Throughout the entire three weeks, I had been reminding them that all of our short practice assignments were to get them ready to write their own narrative. We worked together on choosing a topic, pre-writing strategies, and writing the rough draft. I told them over a week ago that their final narrative (typed, double spaced, etc.) would be due on Monday (yesterday). I also told them that I do no accept late work--I know, I'm so mean.

However, it is just amazing to me how many printers die, or run out of ink, or paper, or whatever the nigh before a large assignment is due. I feel sort of bad for them...but not really. I tried to explain to them that the universe has a way of making things like that happen when you decide to leave it until the very last minute.

Tough luck, I guess.

All of this reminded me of a Strong Bad email from many moons ago. Please check it out for a good laugh.

http://www.homestarrunner.com/sbemail64.html

I think I lied to my students today

I don't want to say too much because my district is pretty weird about teachers posting things online, but I just have to say that I think I lied to my students today.

I started teaching my British Literature course to a group of seniors. I might have told them that I love British literature (Beowulf included). That's not entirely true. But if your teacher has a passion for it, its much easier to like it yourself. Right?

Maybe I can love it by the end of the semester.

Maybe.

Snow Day!

When Chris got home from work yesterday morning, he asked me if I was excited about the snow that was coming our way. I hadn't heard anything about snow, and had actually thought that it felt rather nice outside as I went to the gym. But, sure enough, we got snow.

It has been a long time since I had a snow day (Houston isn't known for its blizzards). I love the look of snow; I love the smell of snow--yes, it has a smell; I love the sound of snow; I love it all. I'm sure then when I lived in Colorado and Utah, I got sick of snow, but I don't remember those times.

I remember getting stuck leaving the school parking lot on an early-release snow day and having to call my parents to come pick us up from the church building. I remember trying to escape a boring activity at church by trudging outside in knee-deep snow. I remember times when roommates and I played in the snow (and some injured themselves in the process). I remember walking to campus and listening to the hushed sound of snow blanketing the ground.

And most of all, I remember the feeling of watching the news to see that school was canceled for the day. In Colorado, this usually means a good 8 inches over night, but here in Charlotte, it means any accumulation.

The best thing about being a teacher is that I never have to let go of my love for snow days. Chris complained that his job doesn't stop for snow--in fact they probably get busier.

Unfortunately, I have gotten so old that I couldn't fall back asleep this morning. (Hence, the darkness of the pictures.) And, I am actually sitting here at the computer doing work--well, I will be as soon as I am done blogging.