hell, literally

Today, one of my students threw up inside the classroom, and I'm proud to say that I handled it with grace and authority. Of course, that's only because I've rehearsed that exact scenario in my head a million times. I'm vomit-crazy, don't you remember?

I delegated a student to bring over a trashcan, delegated another to walk the sicko to the nurse, and commanded the rest to take their books to the carpet, on the other side of the classroom. I dialed maintenance with nary a glance at the mess. I further delegated more students to move the fan from the contaminated side of the classroom to the carpet by the door and aimed it to blow hot, smoky air onto us. (Hot, smoky air is preferable to smelly, throw up air.) I commenced reading comprehension lessons. This all in under sixty seconds.

THEN, after the floor was bleached and my hands Purelled, the temperature rose to eighty-four degrees. Our air-conditioning doesn't work! Ha! Plus! The special-ed student who joins our class for language arts was, for some reason, dropped off during math! He hits!

Oh, I forgot to tell you that today was Picture Day. In the middle of math, we were called to the auditorium to stand in a long line. Several students were pushed and/or pinched, and Extra Student was forcibly returned to his classroom. The highlight of Picture Day was that the auditorium was blessedly air-conditioned.

Post-lunch, all doors were shut to keep out the smoke. The temperature inside climbed to eighty-four degrees, and so I turned off the lights. The nurse sent two more kids home. I let my students color for an hour in the dark. I lay my head on a table and almost fell asleep.

I can't wait for tomorrow!