So I had an attack of paranoia.
An old friend found me on Facebook and I sent her a link to my blog.
Now if I understood 21st Century Technology like I pretend to, I would have made sure that the link was sent as private message but of course I don't really get these things so instead I posted it on the Share page where everyone could see it.
Now I probably wouldn't have ever realized this except on the very day I decided to do this my husband decided to open a facebook page and read the message. I have no problem with my husband reading the blog (I even encourage him)but then I realized that the blog was out there on my facebook page with my real names for all these "facebook friends" who I work with to see. Not that I am particularly, purposelessly negative on the blog, but I figure it best to keep my musings anonymous.
All this before 8am on a Saturday morning.
So I panicked, made the last blog private and moved the old stuff over here.
Then I went into to frozen mode- and couldn't write anything for two we
And now I don't really know why I am explaining this since I have probably managed to excise any readership I might had had at all.
I've decided I hate my job (okay I love my job sometimes, but there's been a lot to hate this week.)
The ninth grade science teacher had oral surgery leaving me to suffer with the ninth grade inclusion class alone.
Kenya, the 6 foot 5 star of the basketball team switches from class clown, to chief cynic, to why you writing me up Ms TeacherFish, in less time that it takes him to hi jack a jump ball.
Cleo snickers, than guffaws and then breaks out into screech just at the second when I have been seduced into thinking he has settle down.
Lance pops up and down about fifty times a minute interspersed with blasts from his I-Phone
And then there's Tomas
Tomas joined the class in October. Small, Hispanic (in a school that is overwhelming African American) and infinitely less cool than his younger brother, Tomas devotes his time and energy to impressing the cool crowd by stressing me.
Tomas: Ms. Teacherfish- you Irish? Is Teacherfish an Teach Irish name?
Me: No Tomas, it means---- in another language and anyway its my husband's name.
Tomas: You married?
(What does that mean? Is it unfathomable that someone would marry me? but I just move on withe the lesson)
Then later I think I could have said: Tomas why don't you go and find a dictionary and look up the meaning of husband.
But maybe I should be mature than a wannabee 14 year old "gansta."
The crocuses are up-Spring approaches
and hopefully the ninth grade teacher will be back really soon.