I love the snow! Snow, snow, snow! It's so pretty. And although it's wet and cold and slippery, it possesses a power I can't help but love... the power to get me out of having to go to work. In the great Northwest we have lots of hills and our snow is of the wet variety which easily freezes into ice (and it's evil twin "black ice") which would be stupid to drive in. So lots of schools and places of business will close their doors for safety reasons. And what's safer than sitting in your own living room in your new Christmas Snoopy pajamas drinking hot chocolate and watching your favorite Christmas movies? Nothing, my friends. Nothing is safer than that. So tonight I pray for snow!
We had an assembly today to celebrate the end of this year's fundraiser. A counselor got his head shaved. Another counselor got her hair dyed red. A teacher got his beard shaved. Another teacher gave away a shopping spree. The kids were excited about going. The ones that actually did the fundraiser got a ticket to sit in the best seats on the floor.
I've been working at this school since the beginning of the year. I yell at a hundred kids every day to make them stop running in the hall, or to reprimand them after they're caught screaming profanities or fighting. They usually look at me like I'm a freak and then continue whatever I told them to stop doing.
I guess it's because they think I'm just a random student like them that just happens to think I can tell them what to do. Because today before I entered the gym, the 8th grade ticket collector asked me if I had a ticket. At first I didn't know what to say and there was an awkward pause as he held out his hand waiting and I jumbled around in my pocket for my district ID badge before I finally said, "Wait, I don't need a ticket. I'm a teacher."
Don't worry. There were several other teachers around who heard the exchange and laughed so hard I thought I was going to have to call an ambulence. It's not like they needed another excuse to make fun of me. I'm already known as just "Baby" by a growing number of the staff. Hilarious.
I'm sick. And not just a little sick. I have a flu virus with the nausea inducing flare and energy of Richard Simmons. It knocked on my door briefly during 4th period Thursday afternoon. But I shrugged it off. A three-day weekend was nearing and I had plans. Big plans. Plans that didn't include going to work and will wrestling with middle school kids. So I went to Pounders with the girls and felt fine. Better than fine. The 4th period glich was almost completely forgotten as I drove home Thursday night singing and car dancing to Vanilla Ice (thanks to my new favorite radio station Movin' 92.5). The next morning I felt fine too. It was Friday. And I was home. I found The Megan Mullally Show and giggled through my first viewing. It ended and I thought about my next move. Would I go see "Stranger Than Fiction" and then go clothes shopping and then drive up to Renton? Or would I go clothes shopping, drive up to Renton and then go see "Stranger Than Fiction" and invite my sister? Decisions... decisions... aaagghhh!!! The pain! The misery! The feeling of millions of very tiny yet very fit (Richard Simmons again) flu viruses hearing the same war cry and biting down in unison. I wanted to die.
I writhed and cried (yes... real tears) as I had visions of popsicles and medicine. But I could barely crawl to the bathroom. There was no way I'd be able to make it to my car. I certainly wouldn't be able to make it to the store and back. Also, there was the whole raining and flooding situation thing going on outside. I called my parents. They pointed out the rain situation and said that if I was still sick tomorrow that they'd bring me medicine. I was still sick the next day.
They brought me medicine. I felt better.
I was still sick Sunday too.
And today I tried to go to work. Well, I did go to work. But I didn't last long. I was asked to go home before the real school day even started. Everyone I know that's had the flu this season says it lasts at least two weeks. I don't have two weeks. I'll be taking my Gatorade, popsicles and medicine to work with me tomorrow. I shouldn't be contagious any more. My fever broke on Saturday. I'll just have to rough it. Four more days until the weekend. Six and a half days until Thanksgiving Break. Almost there...
P.S. Strawberry Garorade tastes just like melted Strawberry Jello. I have mixed feelings about that. Grape's definitely my favorite.