Review 2005

Mimi Leigh

Ahhh, 2005. Two thousand and five. The sum of its parts is seven. 7, a lucky number, no? Seven dwarfs, Seven Sacraments, The Seventh Sign. Seven opportunities a week to not want to get out of bed.

What's that stress list? You know, the one that rates levels of stress associated with life changes? Well, I think my score is actually right at 2005. But it's not all bad.

I actually DO want to get out of bed now. This year took me away from my shoebox cubicle where I sold gourmet cookies by phone, but REALLY updated my blog and refreshed Gawker 6 times an hour. I woke from a blog/cookie induced stupor one day and decided that I really could be doing something better with my life that didn't involve chocolate chips or the latest news on Vincent Gallo. My deus ex machina---the classroom.

Yes, I started teaching 7th grade Language Arts just a few months ago. And I set my wedding date the same day that I accepted the job. Perhaps I actually had a death wish.

85 little 13-14 year olds keep me crazy every single day. And I love it. I always wanted to teach high school, but I feel relieved that I didn't get my wish. These little hellions are everything I never thought they would be. They're funnier, they're MUCH more mature (they have sex!!! gag), they're much smaller in stature that I expected, they're completely and unforgivingly unmotivated, they're hip, they're tragically unhip, they curse, some smoke, some drink, some have marijuana tattoos on their forearm and used to be in a gang, some are gay and haven't admitted it yet, some have to pee every day at exactly 9:26, some give me their food that they don't want every day at lunch, some have had open heart surgery and others have had brain tumors. All in all, even with their faults, they're a colossal joy. I find it hard to get angry with most of them. Example:

Today I was sitting on my stool in front of the class a few minutes before dismissal. Students were gathered around me, competing for my attention as usual, when I suddenly felt something funny on my bottom. Charles (names have been changed to protect the innocent) was idly drawing on my ASS with a big pink piece of chalk. ON MY ASS.

I said "Charles dear, I know it's such a temptingly large canvas, but please refrain from touching my bottom with that pink extension of your finger."

He is apparently so comfortable with me that he just giggled. I went to wipe off the pink evidence and he preemptively took his little hand and RUBBED MY BUTT, yes RUBBED MY BUTT to erase his designs. I should have gone crazy on him, but it was only then that he realized that anything he was doing was inappropriate and he then looked a bit sheepish and apologized.

These are my days, and it sure beats selling cookies.

Mimi Leigh writes 72hrchikdom

For an introduction and list of contributors to Review 2005, follow this link.

No comments:

Post a comment