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Playing Hooky


I skipped a meeting yesterday. It was a mandatory meeting, but I just couldn't take it. I'm awfully burned out - I certainly wish that my body or mind or whatever part of me is THIS burned out could have timed it a little better with the school year. There's still 56 school days left. And I am dragging myself through each one.


I think a lot of it is because of the stupid bureaucracy I am dealing with - I am sick of bubbling in forms and taking employee satisfaction surveys when I know that no one cares if I am actually satisfied. Tired of being told to recopy report cards (not that I did it).


So, there was a meeting after school and I started to walk in, and saw that the only empty seat was right next to my evaluator who hasn't said a word to me in a week. (Warren thinks I intimidate her because I'm standing up to her). Then my principal came to tell me that the mother of one of my students - one of my shyest, sweetest, most insecure students - cursed out our PE coach and wouldn't stop shoving him - he called the police on her. That's when I decided I was done with the meeting.


I found out from the coach that the whole incident had some rather disturbing racial undertones, which I can talk about more tomorrow when I'm not so tired. I ended up not just ditching the meeting but just leaving the campus early. Someone from the office asked me if I was leaving and I said I was going "downtown." Can I help it if they would automatically assume that "downtown" meant the district offices to deal with some kind of paperwork? OK, so I knew that's how they'd take it. But technically, I wasn't lying, because I was going downtown! Except it was downtown Alameda to buy some bubble tea before I went home to take a nap.

Comments

Jessamyn Harris said…
I took that photo! your dog's a genius :)

you should get a massage. when I was in portland, I went to a finnish spa that had a sauna and steam room and it was very, very nice and relaxing. I just have to figure out how the heck to build one in our apartment...
Unknown said…
Ooooo! Good idea!

When my father died and I was moving across the country and selling my house, a friend I was visiting got me a massage for my birthday. Actually despite my status as an experienced massage-recipient, I just about had an anxiety attack *relaxing*... how stressed are you when relaxing makes you panic?!?

So when I got home, I had weekly one-hour massages from a friend who was a masseuse, for six weeks. It makes a huge, huge difference.

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