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Please, excuse my crankiness...

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I seem to be having a week that is conspiring to send me to a locked ward:




Episode 1:


A person I know is trying to set up a professional meeting with me. I tell her I am free all week, except this evening and tomorrow, and ask when would be a good time for her to meet without children (because, as I explain, there is material to go over, and children are distracting). Our conversation goes along like this:


Her: Thursday or Friday is fine!


Me: Ok, I have to teach a class in Town A at 5:30 on Thursday, and am not available on Friday because Husband is at work that day.


Her: Since you're teaching, do you want to meet at Town B location, and then I can just bring the kids to the pool?


(we both live in Town A, I said I was teaching at the Town A location. Seriously. I went back and checked.)


Me: Um, no. I'm teaching at the Town A location. And, as I mentioned, it would be better to not have the children.


Her: Oh! I thought you wanted me to bring them. Do you want to meet at your house, then?


Me: Well, the time is fine, but my children will be at my house. I'll try to come up with another location.


Her: How about the park?


Me: Great! Which park? (there are three in our town)


Her: How about the park a block from Town B location, since you're teaching later?


I'm sorry... WHO is on first? :001_huh:



Episode 2:

I just finished transcribing VIE3 lesson plans into HSTOnline. I'm a little fried. I look down at the counter and see a box of dry erase crayons. Empty. We have at least 6 boxes of unopened crayons, and a bin of crayons the children have just dumped out of the boxes.


Me: Where the h@ll are the dry erase crayons??? (waving empty box around)

11yo: The box is on the counter. (classic passing the buck)

Me: I KNOW where they WERE. I have the empty box in my hand. I want to know where they ARE.

7yo#1: Oh. We were coloring blahblahblahblah...

Husband: ok, but where ARE they now?

7yo#2: Well, three of them are under the couch...


:confused: WTH?? Because it's, what, CUSTOMARY??, when you're done with a crayon/snack/underwear, to just toss it under/behind furniture??!?!?!




So, ok, I am now going to engage in some book cataloging therapy. And then I am going to go have this meeting. And then I'm going to teach Pilates. And then, I'm going to come home and have a glass of Mad Housewife.


And if any of you notice I am not on here, coming completely unhinged about grammar errors or faux pas of similar import this evening, please know that I am either in jail, in a supervised facility, or my husband has locked me in a closet until I can stop biting people.


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Unfortunately here it *is* customary to find things behind furniture. I made mine up the foot rests on all the seats and find all the pencils.


The first one sounds lilke this ditzy gal, the parent of a kid's friend. She drives me bonkers. It's like she listens to half of each sentence.

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