Tuesday, January 10, 2006

... like crap through a goose.

Yes, we are on the front lines of this war we call "Education." Day after day, we attack and counter attack developing minds. We flank poor study habits and we enfilade any platoon of ignorance that comes over the ridge. We use manuever, tactical surprise, and occassionaly we shock and awe. Of course, we also have Section Eights. I think I qualify for one of those. You may too, if you go through what I do the instant I turn on the overhead.

"Whoa. That's blurry."
"Uh--that's blurry."
"Whoa. That's blurry."
"My Eyes!"
"Hello, Fuzzy McBlur-Blur."
"Wakarimasen!" (That's my ESL class.)
"Whoa. That's blurry."

I have to go through that five more times a day, every freaking time that I use the overhead. To say that it drives me nuts is an understatement. And it serves as a perfect example of the forces of unoriginal thought that we fight everyday.

My nerves are shot. I don't think I'm going to make it to the end of the year. Maybe Principal Pécan can give me a Patton-esque slap across the face.

Let me hear your battle cry!

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All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. That's our story and we're sticking to it.