Schooooool's... out... for... a week

The birds are chirping, the flowers are blooming, the students are locked in the throes of... well... something, and the smell from the dumpster is beginning to ripen.

It can mean only one thing. That's right. Spring Break is upon us and not a moment too soon.

Not that I don't love having the students around (and the administrators, of course), but it'll be nice to have the place to myself for a week. I've got the run of the house, or school, or... whatever.

Spring Break is really, truly liberating. I feel like Tom Cruise in Risky Business, minus the fancy underwear and Rebecca De Mornay as the hooker with the heart of gold. I don't plan on sliding through the hallways and singing into a chalkboard eraser or anything but, hey, you never know. Anything goes on Spring Break.

Just think about it. The cafeteria's unmanned, the dumpsters are wide open for perusal, the gym's shower facilities have no pesky coaches roaming around, yelling randomly into the steam, "Hey you! You don't have gym this period! Get outta' here!." It's a Hobo Teacher paradise. The only thing that would make it better would be if I had the keys to Driver's Ed car.

The only thing I really have to worry about is the occasional, uncomfortable, run-in with confused custodial staffer or maintenance person.

You see, my underwear isn't as nice as Tom Cruise's.