In between classes (during my "free" hour), she stands behind me and tells me what to scan and copy for MY lessons. She then stands over my shoulder until I complete the tasks she assigns me. Are you kidding me?
Right. And then before I leave, she walks me up to the principal to explain that I am leaving for the day. She does this every day and she might as well be holding my hand. Then she walks me down to the entrance (to make sure I don't get lost/torch the school) to see me off.
Does it sound as insane as it is?
So she pretty much gets the "ohmigod, I'm so mad at you" smile every minute of every day that she speaks to me. It's a smile I paste on (after years of teaching) when I'm so frustrated that I could explode. This being said, I'm pretty much a "wear my heart on my sleeve" kinda gal. I don't mean to be, but I'm the easiest person to read. If I'm sad, you know. If I'm happy, you know. You get the picture.
Well, ok. I dealt with all that ish^ for the past two months. And by "dealing with it", I mean venting to John every couple days. But last week was a different story.
To give you some perspective, EVERY. SINGLE. TEACHER comes to this school in athletic gear. I wear business clothes because a) I don't have athletic gear and b)I haven't yet gotten approval. But seriously you guys, the humidity here is intense. "And it's not even that hot yet" Robert reminds me every time I complain. Hey man, when in Rome right? All the other teachers are wearing athletic gear, time to go shoppinggg!!
But first, I asked my babysitter for approval. She said no. I asked four more times, in about six different ways. The answer? "No. I like what you dress. You wear nice. Please" Furreealll? MMmmmmkayyy. That sucks, but ok.
So the next day, I come to school in my suit. Because I wear nice. My babysitter comes up to me (our dialogue is always drawn out and painful since neither of us speak the same language). What our 37 minute conversation came down to is that from 13:00- 15:30, I was to clean and scrub toilets. All the school's toilets. In preparation for tomorrow's Sports Festival.
In. MY. SUIT. Are you KIDDING ME?!??!?
Teachers came up to me and asked if I had a change of clothes. Nope! So for the next couple hours, I cleaned toilets in my suit. BOOM. ARCHNEMESIS. Alright Babysitter.... you and I? NO LONGER FRIENDS. You have upgraded yourself to Archmenesis.
The silver lining: At the end of the day, she came up to me with a piece of paper that said "Dressing your favorite." I blankly stared at her (and by blankly, I mean glared at her with red furious lazer eyes), sighed and responded "Italian. My favorite dressing is Italian" She spent the next ten minutes repeating the words "Your favorite dressing", but switching the order to see if anything clicked. What I took from the conversation is that I may wear what I want. Dress in my favorite, if you will. Andddd athletic clothes it is for me, from here on out. Suck it, Archnemesis.
I know, I know, such a long venting session. I apologize, but now you're all in the loop. To reward you, here is a video for my female readers (What up, Carly, Jackie, Ashley, Patty and Cece). I wasn't going to post it, but now it's going viral over facebook (seriously, half of my girlfriends have shared this. If you haven't already seen it, get ready to love this dude. And if you have already seen it... let's be honest: You're going to watch it again.