Back to School for Teachers

What Back to School for Teachers means:

  • Drinking. 
  • Training my bladder so I can use the restroom once or twice a day, at strategically planned intervals with other staff. Gross. I know. 
  • Learning to eat lunch, use the restroom, and run errands in 20 minutes. 
  • Censoring my "summer" language. F-bombs are usually frowned upon by the administration. 
  • Dealing with a sore throat from talking all.the.time.
  • Learning that I'll never enjoy silence for another nine months, unless it's on a weekend morning before John and/or dogs wake up. 
  • Sunday Night Depression. (It's capitalized because it's a proper noun. I've made it that way. The end.)
  • Managing my rage against other adults in the building who are chronic complainers or Debbie Downers. In my personal life, I eliminate these people because I can. In my workplace, I manage my anger and leave the room, when possible. Although a right hook is my preferential method of anger management. That, also, is frowned upon by the administration. 
  • More drinking. 
  • Rejoicing in "no homework" days, which usually means no homework for the teacher either. 
  • Coming to the realization that in the next nine months my house will never be clean, laundry will never be washed, dishes never put away. Lesson plans and grading come first. 
  • Setting the goal that I will only check email at work, not at home, lest I want my personal life to suffer greatly. 
  • Business casual dress code (which I secretly LOVE) and denim on Friday's. No exceptions. 


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