This past week has been the worst week of my entire life. Bar none. (Exaggeration in this blog post is intentional.) Last weekend, I had a great time going around the State Fair with my family from 12:00 to 9:00. But little did I know, that I had managed to catch the flu and walking around for nine hours straight was NOT good for my health that day. So I missed church and skipped a day of school. But I wasn’t deathbed sick, I just didn’t have enough energy to teach. So I figured that Monday was a good day to finish writing the big walkaway test for first term. (I volunteered to do first term. Yes, I am an idiot. Any other questions?)
Well, I saw problems in the test items right away, mainly because our department had added extra items to the core and I knew we wouldn’t have enough time to teach it all. So I emailed some suggestions to the department head and he basically said, NO to everything. I felt like I’d hit a brick wall. So I spent that entire day trying to get a better understanding of the core, emailing suggestions to my department head, and talking to other teachers and experts to figure out what should really be on that stupid test. So, one full day and I wrote maybe three test questions.
So, day two of the week I don’t feel sick enough to stay home, and wonder of wonders—it’s parent teacher conference! I’m exhausted after a day of teaching on low energy levels, I’m eagerly anticipating the 45 minute break I get before the parents show up, and what do you know, a parent ambushes me in the hall and I have to get a flu shot in the office. I show up a half hour late in the cafeteria and have a steady stream of concerned, worried parents right up until 7:45. Three hours and forty-five minutes. Teaching is draining, but I think talking with parents is almost more so.
The next morning at school, I feel worse than I did the day before. In addition, that stupid, frustrating, demon-spawned walkaway test is still hanging over my head like an anvil. I also figured out that morning that I have no idea what my students are doing for the rest of the week and realize that I should be hitting the persuasive writing unit and I have no idea how to organize it this year.
So, I manage to squeak by with a few impromptu lessons, and thank the stars my department head doesn’t say anything to me about the stupid, frustrating, demon-spawned walkaway test. I think I actually taught some good concepts, but Friday was a gift from heaven and I finally got to go to the temple and get my spiritual buckets refilled.
Holy cow, what a week of torture. It wouldn’t have been so bad if I’d actually had energy and if that stupid, frustrating, demon-spawned walkaway test wasn’t hovering over my tired, battered, fuzzed with flu head.
I’m so glad that week is over. I think I’ll be able to finish the walkaway test next week, I should have better energy, and hopefully I’ll have some time to plan out my persuasive writing unit before the district-wide writing test hits. My grandma said that you can survive anything for a week. I just proved her right. And without the spiritual strength of the temple, I’d probably be a shriveled up piece of jerky by now.
