The first two weeks

They've been relatively uneventful, considering I'm back in the classroom for the first time in 9 years. I'm far from saying I have perfect kids, but who does? I just hope they continue to be as good as they've been--and a few are better.

Hilarity:

If you've been in my situation--being out-numbered by men for half your life--you've lived this scenario. You've awakened in the middle of the night and, after weighing the options of either being blinded permanently by turning on the lights in the bathroom or groping your way to the toidy, you decide you'll just take the temporary blindness and grope. You make it and proceed to sit, only to decide on your way down that someone removed the toidy while you've slept because you're dropping farther than normal. Just when you think you're going to fall into an abyss where the throne used to be, you smack the rim--one inch below where it's supposed to be because some dear forgot to lower the seat.

Well, today I attempted to open the door to the women's room with my back, I began to have that same dread, only with the door itself. I continued backing and pushing air, getting this sinking feeling that I was about to step off the edge of the world. Then I heard, "Whoops!" Sharon was behind me, prepared to catch. (It wouldn't have been pretty, either. Sharon would have been a greasy spot.) She said, "It's OK. No-one-else-saw. I had a front-row seat." I replied, "You almost WERE the front-row seat."

"Wild Thang," aka "Olivia, the Cat"

As Rich and Shane know, I have what is probably the clumsiest cat on the planet. So, this morning, when I was basking in Saturday-morning laziness and she took off on one of her early-morning/late-evening tears, I should have known that it would result in some sort of disaster.

As I mentioned, I was being lazy, lying in bed, on my stomach, bemoaning the fact that I had to get up. Now, you must understand: when I lie on my stomach, I let my feet hang over the end of the bed. It's more comfy to me, for some reason. Anyway, I was in said position when the cat came growling, pounding and bounding (she would make a miserable hunter) into our room. I heard her slide around the bottom corner of the bed, then make another turn. I was prepared for the usual bound upon the bed, where she finds ways for me to pet her passively. (She likes to butt against my hands and my CHIN for an early-morning caress.) Well, she DID "bound," but, for some reason, she underestimated the height of the bed. All I felt was a cat's head smacking solidly against my feet, pretty much right between them where I know she had to hit the footboard, too. Then, I heard her take off into the living room, where I'm sure she went to shake off her wounds.

She did return, but in a much calmer mode.

According to the boss, I'm being negative

As I told Shane, Baghdad looks better than the high school right now.