Customer Service Rocks

Last year I bought two electric toothbrushes--one for George, and one for me. It was not the first electric toothbrush I had had, or used, since my father has been buying them since they first came out. George had also had one before too. My new toothbrush was transparent fuscia, which I thought was really cool because I could somewhat see the parts inside.

After a few months, I began to notice some condensation on the inside of the toothbrush. I didn't really think anything of it at the time. For all I knew, that was what happened to all electric toothbrushes, except that they were white so I couldn't see the condensation inside. So I continued merrily brushing my teeth day and night.

Eventually, the condensation turned into mold, and now my toothbrush won't work anymore. The mold has somehow blocked the on/off switch. I asked George how his toothbrush was working, and if it had mold inside, since he has the same one as me, only in blue. He said his toothbrush was mold free and still working great, which led me to believe that mine was somehow defective. The only problem with returning it was that I did not keep the on-line order receipt, or any e-mails referring to it.

I decided to try anyways. The store where I purshased it from only keeps records of on-line purchases for a year, so they told me to call the company. I just did. And guess what?!?!? They are sending me a brand new toothbrush in the mail! I was totally not expecting such a quick resolution. I thought that, at the very least, I would have to send in my toothbrush, or that I would be SOL since I didn't have my proof of purchase anymore. But that is not the case. I am getting a new toothbrush! How cool is that?

It Really IS a Small World After All

I swear I am in Toronto right now, having left the sweltering stickiness that is Santo Domingo during the summer in a wake of jet fumes. If so, then why do things that "only happen in the DR" KEEP happening to me?!?!?

In the past 60 hours I have experienced the following Dominicanisms:

1) Sudden loss of internet connection for no apparent reason. Attemts to reset both internet and computer fail.

2) Traffic lights out, and cops in yellow vests directing vehicular flow at the intersection.

3) Going inside while the sky is clear only to reemerge about 5-10 minutes later in a torrential downpour that lasts for about 15 minutes.

4) Waiting for a delivery guy who finally shows up 2 and a half hours late.

5) The "clap clap clap-clap-clap" method of getting a large group of children's attention (apparently this is not just an International School thing....who knew?)

It almost feels like I never left. I guess the world really is a small place after all.

Luggage Update

Just thought you would all like to know that my vagrant valise managed to stumble its way home after a night of reckelss abandon; me being the abandoned one. Welcome home suitcase!

Note of Interest: My luggage did not have the customary UPC luggage tag on it when it arrived, which I thought rather odd. Maybe the tag fell off and this was the cause for delay? But then how was it identified without the tag? I just don't know.

Come Fly With Me

Home. Finally. But not without a mis-adventure or two in customary Travel Bug fashion. It seems that flying from Santo Domingo to Toronto on a connecting flight without SOMETHING going wrong is nearly impossible. So far, 3 out of 4 returns have been harrowing, and anxiety-filled.

Once agian I took part in the annual sprint across the Miami airport to catch my connecting flight. I think I even managed to shave a few mintues off my best time which I set last year. I should probably look into calling the IOC to see about making it an official sport. Maybe I could be the first to win a gold medal for Canada. But only if I am wearing my flip-flops!

My luggage also took a small detour, with half of it prolonging its vacation in Miami. The other bag turned up late, on the missing baggage cart that they miraculously located about 30 minutes after they finished unloading all the other luggage. To top it all off, when I finally got it, it was soaking wet! I wouldn't have bothered doing laundry over the weekend if I knew my bag was going to stop for a swim in the ocean before it got to me. Granted, it was raining in Miami at the time, but what did they do? Leave it in a puddle?
Correct me if I'm wrong, but don't they have covered little luggage carts for exactly that reason?

My delayed bag, as they like to call it (I prefer "lost"), remains to be located. Perhaps it is still frolicking in the puddles of the Miami airport.

My Laundry is in Limbo

On Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, the maid comes to George's house to cook, clean, and do laundry. Having a maid or a nanny is a very popular thing is this country. I can safely say that EVERYONE has a maid or a nanny, or both, and sometimes a chauffeur too. Hired help like this is super, super cheap in the DR, as are visits to the salon, spa, etc. It is a country of comforts among so many other discomforts.

Yesterday the maid was here, so I thought it would be a great idea to wash some of my clothes since I haven't done laundry since last Wednesday when I was preparing to move out of my apartment. I still had clean clothes left, but I figured having the rest of them washed would give me more options. Plus, I still haven't decided what I am going to wear on the plane home.

George has a washing machine, but not a dryer since electricity is extremely expensive and not so plentiful. At George's house, they usually they wash their clothes and hang them out to dry in the hot caribbean sun, which is quick, free, and easy. I had a dryer at my apartment. I guess my EX-boss thought that we foreign hires would go nuts-o without "the basics" that we are accustomed to.

Anyways, the point here is that most of my clothes got washed yesterday. But it also rained heavily yesterday, which means that my clothes are still wet 24 hours later. Now really, this isn't a big deal except for the fact that clothes get this "rain" smell if they get rained on, or stay wet for too long. I don't know what it is. Maybe it's all the mirco-organisms living in the water that you shouldn't drink straight from the tap. Whatever the cause, the smell really is unpleasant. And my clothes were getting there. Something needed to be done, fast.

First we hung everything around George's room and turned the fan on full blast. Then we peeked outside and saw that the skies were oscillating between cloudy and clear, so we decided to chance it and put the clothes out on the roof to dry. Big mistake. Out of the blue, literally, it began pouring buckets and there was not a clear patch of sky in sight. All the clothes got even more wet---and stinky. 15 minutes later, the skies cleared and now there is not a cloud in sight. Figures.

The clothes are back in the washing machine now since the only way to kill the smell is to re-wash them. Hopefully the weather holds out, or I'll be coming home in my knickers.

Puerto Plata

Our trip to Puerto Plata was nice and relaxing, which was great because as I found out when I got there, I REALLY needed it!

We arrived Monday night around 7:30 pm, after a three and a half hour drive. The drive itself was pretty uneventful. We played "Name that Roadkill" for a while. Mostly dogs and such, but there was one animal that left us stumped. To me it looked like a young bear, but there are no bears here. After seeing a live donkey grazing on the side of the road on the way back, I think that's what it might have been, which makes a lot more sense than the bear theory. And just for the record, I know that bears and donkeys look nothing alike. We were driving fast. It was dead. Cut me a little slack.

Once we arrived at the hotel, we checked in and proceeded to our room. It was nicer than the other rooms I had stayed in previously at that hotel. Then it was off to dinner. After dinner we both crashed so that we could get up bright and early for our touristy snorkelling trip the next day.

I woke up Tuesday morning all ready to go, jumped in the shower, AND.....got a migraine. BOO! No snorkelling for me. So, I went straight back to bed while George ran around looking for Advil since I couldn't find the bottle that I thought I had brought with me.

He finally found some at the hotel store and saved me from my pounding head. It was so bad that the pillow was hurting me. It felt like I was resting my head on rocks. I've never had that happen before. I thought is was a bit strange, but then again, the pillow was a little on the lumpy side. I guess anything is possible.

I slept until about 11 am, and then made another go at getting up and starting my day. Everything was fine after that, and we enjoyed the rest of our trip, which included lots of eating and lounging in air-conditioned comfort. I didn't really work on my tan, but I don't care. I was just so happy to be able to escape the heat. Living in the tropics sure does change your priorities a little. We didn't end up going snorkelling, but that's ok. I don't really like putting my face in the ocean anyways. I think it's all the salt.

And that was it. Pretty uneventful, to tell you the truth. Just the way it should be. Oh, and by the way, I found my Advil while packing up to go home. Of course.

The Things You Notice

The Dominican Republic is a fairly religious country. Most people are Roman Catholic, with all that it entails. Think kids living at home well into their thirties, etc. etc. So you can imagine the problem that may arise for young people who are dating, if you know what I mean. *Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge.*

Oddly enough, The Dominican Republic is also a fairly adulterous country, with many married men taking on mistresses. Since the mistress is probably still living at home, and the married man's house is occupied, they too might have trouble finding a place to spend "quality time" together.

The solution to both of these situations presents itself in the form of "Cabañas Turisticas," or Tourist Cabanas, which are shanty little motels that rent by the hour, smattered all around the country in strategic locations; like the sides of the highways, for example.

On our way to Puerto Plata, George and I probably passed about 20 or so of them, with catchy names like "Zeus--where only the gods come" (YES it actually said that on the poster!), and "Apollo."

Eventually, we came across "Burbujas de Amor [Bubbles of Love]," which just happened to be strategically located right across the street from THE TRASH HEAP!!! The burning, smoldering, trash heap that emits the foulest stench imaginable (I know because we stopped to take pictures on the way back. The smell stayed in the car for the next 20 minutes). Now tell me honestly, doesn't that just float your boat!?!?!?

You have to wonder, which came first? The trash heap or the motel? And if it was the trash heap, what the HELL were the Burbujas de Amor people thinking. . .















The sign pointing to the motel.

And on the other side of the two-lane highway:















The festering heap--only a small portion mind you.

How It All Turned Out:

After my boss stood us up at noon on Friday, I went to George's house for lunch. We kept calling the school to see if she had returned, but she hadn't. I decided that I would still move all my stuff out that day like I had planned, and go down to the apartment Monday morning to settle up the pay, which is when my roommate was checking out.

So at around 4, I told George we should get going to load up the car because it was getting late and I had plans for a Girls' Weekend with Patricia and Raymi later that night. On our way to my apartment, I suggested that we pass by the school (it is a block away) just for the hell of it.

Well, what do you know! My boss had just arrived about 10 minutes earlier and was in a meeting. I decided to wait around to talk to her. I had left George in the car, but I guess I was gone a while because the next thing I knew, he was standing beside me in the office.

Finally she was done with her meeting, and came into the office area. When she saw me, she simply asked if I was ready to move out of the apartment--no mention of standing us up. I said yes, and she called me into her office. She proceeded to give me my remaining pay and bonus, and told me to leave my keys with my roommate since she was leaving a few days after me.

Just like that! I was so confused. It had been such a matter of "following procedure" in order for me to be able to get my final pay! She didn't even come and inspect the apartment! Honestly, I don't get why it was made so complicated! I could have settled up with her on Tuesday since she didn't end up taking my keys, or even coming to see the place. *rolls eyes*

No matter now because it is finally, finally over! Now on to bigger and better things! Tomorrow I am going to Puerto Plata with George for four days for a mini-vacation before I head home next Monday. I am so excited because we are going on one of those touristy day trip snorkelling excursions! It will be my first time snorkelling ever (unless you count those few times in the bathtub when I was little)! I hope it is fun. Who knows, I may even come back with a tan. *gasp*

I Have Just One Word to Say...

.

DONE!!!

Almost...But Not Quite

They say "almost" only counts in horseshoes. If that's true, then bring on the horses because I am so ready to be done, done, done. Right now, I am only almost done, and since we have already determined that almost doesn't count, I am up the figurative creek.

Let me explain:

The terms and conditions as laid out by the school are that foreign hire teachers (insert me) will receive their last paycheck and end-of-year bonus when, and only when, they hand in the keys to the apartment that the school has provided.

Sounds simple, right? HA HA HA. Like I said before, "Nothing can be simple at that place."

Problem Number 1: In order to hand over your keys in the first place, SHE needs to come and check out the apartment. You know, to make sure we haven't written on the walls, sold the furniture, smuggled the TV in our suitcase, whatever.

Problem Number 2: If you are handing over the keys, then it goes without saying that you can no longer use the apartment, which means that you have to hand over the keys on the day you are leaving. Presumably, on your way to the airport.

Problem Number 3: Now that you have handed over your keys on the way to the airport, you receive your money in: Dominican Pesos. When, pray tell, do you hope to exchange your money? In my case this is particulary a problem since there is only one place that sometimes sells Canadian.

Such fun.

I am leaving the DR on the 27th, but I have to be out of the apartment by the 20th. Since I want to be rid of that woman, and because I am going to Puerto Plata on the 20th, I decided that I was going to move out this week. I am all packed up and ready to go.

But...

I am stuck on problem number 1. My roommate and I had asked (about 4 times, mind you) for her to come to the apartment today at noon. She said "Just call me." So we did. Today. At noon. She had gone out. And nobody knows when she will be back. AUGH!!!

Can Nothing Be Simple?

-->aside: I am taking advantage of George's internet to write this post since my services were disconnected on Saturday. Muchas gracias, George<--

*beep beep beep* The shrillness of my alarm added to the surrounding noise already present outside my building at 6:15 am. Groan. 'Is it time to get up already?' I asked myself as I switched off the unwelcome disturbance. Normally I "sleep in" until about 6:50 since I don't have to be at school until 7:30, but today was parent/teacher conferences.

'Oh joy,' I thought. 'Not only do I have to wake up early to be at school for my first meeting at 7, but I have to come back again at night for promotion.' What a way to spend the day! I shuffled into the shower, and proceeded to prepare myself for the long day ahead--16 half-hour meetings. Yes, you did the math correctly. 8 hours of meetings (plus half-an-hour for lunch). Goody.

As I walked up the front steps of the school, I saw that my 7am parents were already there--nothing like an early bird! We sat, had our meeting, and they left 20 minutes later. And that was one of the longest meetings I had today. Most of them were 10 - 15 minutes long. I know you are wondering what I did with all that extra time I had. Well, not much to tell you the truth. I pretty much stayed in my class cleaning up a few things here and there, trying not to wander off in case my next appointment came a few minutes early.

Let me tell you, it was a barrel of monkeys. "The promotion ceremony is tonight at 6:30. Oh you already know? Ok, great. Yes you have to wear the uniform. No, not the T-shirt, the polo shirt. Here is the map for the new school. Yes it is far. Well, if they are giving out maps to the new school, my guess is that it will be ready for September. No, no one has actually told me anything about it. No, I am not coming back. Yes, I know everyone is leaving." 16 times!!!!!

Just when I thought I was about to lose it if I had to repeat myself once more, the end of the day finally came! I gathered my things and took a look around my now organized room. All the books had been returned to the library, the math manipulatives sorted into their correct bins. In short, the room was activity-less. 'Great work.' I thought to myself, knowing that now I would have less to clean up in the following days. I went home feeling tired, but satisfied that my only remaining obligation with the students was promotion night. 'Piece of cake! All I have to do is go up on stage, and call my kids to receive their certificates.'

But of course, nothing can be as simple as it sounds. Especially when it comes to THAT place. Doesn't it start raining just as I being walking home.....and it didn't stop. No, no. In fact, it is still raining as I type. We all thought this meant that tonight's proceedings would be cancelled since they were taking place outside. But no. When I got back to school at 6:30, there were all the parents sitting along the front hallway. And my kids were in my room. My empty, activity-less, organized room. Might I add that my room is located almost directly behind where the ceremonies were taking place and so if one of my students so much as sneezed, they would be heard by everyone.

Great. Now I have to keep 14 kids entertained with NOTHING so they don't inturrupt what is going on. To top it all off, the director decided to start at 12th grade and work her way down. Anyone who knows kids can tell you that this is not a good idea since it is harder to keep smaller children quiet for longer periods of time. But whatever.

When it was finally my turn to hand out certificates and awards, I discovered that they put the wrong name on my "Most Improved Student" award. *sigh* I am telling you, nothing can be simple at that place.

But now it is finally over. My room is a mess, and all my math manipulatives are mixed-up again, but who cares! Two more days and I am outta there!!!

In Denial

Can it be? Is it really true? Has the last day of school finally arrived?!?!? Indeed, my dear overworked, overstressed third grade teacher, it has! YAHOO! Let the joyous news be spread, the wicked school year at last is dead! *insert singing teachers here for effect*

I can't believe it. I can't believe that THIS day, this long awaited day that has been our goal since September first, has finally come---and almost gone. It is too good to be true. I can't quite wrap my frazzled little mind around it. But I am sure I will manage somehow.

One more item crossed of the list, but still a few more to go before I leave on June 27th.

To recap my list of accomplishments thus far:

-5 dentist appointments completed: check
-towel embroidered, fixed, picked up, and then fixed again: check
-tutoring payment cheque cashed: check
-birthday present for Raymi purchased and delivered: check
-present for the best dentist ever purchased and delivered: check
-report cards, portfolios, reading, and writing samples done and handed in to the office: check
-school year completed: check
-visit to the dermatologist: check
-sneak-out-of-school visit to the doctor: check
-purchase of medicine from the pharmacy: check

Now for the things I have left to do:

-15 parent-teacher conferences: pending (Monday)
-clean up classroom: pending (Tuesday/Wednesday)
-complete end-of-year checklist: pending (Wednesday)
-cancel cable/internet service: pending (tomorrow--BOO!!)
-pay cable and phone bills: pending (tomorrow)
-show proof of payment for said bills to school: pending (maybe wednesday)
-have apartment checked out by crazy boss: pending (Thursday???)
-receive last payments: pending previous 7 items and crazy boss's will (hopefully Thursday)
-pack and move out of apartment to George's for a week: pending (Friday if all goes well with aforementioned crazy boss)
-return visit to the dermatologist: pending time availability

Now that I have written it out, it seems like there is a lot more left than I thought. I guess it feels like I don't have much left to do since I have already done so much. Gosh. I can't believe it is almost over and I will be on my way home soon. Maybe it will finally sink in when I am on the plane.

Case In Point

I know I have made reference to some of you about the fact that the director and owner of the school where I work is well, a few sandwiches short of a picnic, to say the least. And I know some of you think it can't possibly be as bad as I make it out to be. But it is. Let me share this little anecdote with you as an example of what goes on 'behind the scenes:'

Today was "Color Day" at school, which means that instead of wearing the school uniform, students had the option of paying $10 pesos to wear normal clothes. When it is a color day, some staff take the opportunity to wear jeans to school--which we are normally not allowed to do. The verdict is still out on whether we are actually allowed to wear jeans on color days or not, but some staff like to take chances.

Yesterday, my roommate was one of those staff memebers. Since she usually plays by the rules, she was a little nervous about what might happen to her because she wore jeans (we had a 10 minute discussion before we left for school about wearing jeans, was I wearing jeans, should she wear jeans, etc.) She even took a pair of other pants to school just in case. When she came across our immediate supervisor, the elementary principal (not the crazy one), she asked if it was ok that she came in jeans, and she got the following reply, which we both found quite surprising and funny at the same time: "Well, it's ok with me, but I don't know what SHE will say. Last week when it was raining, I wore jeans, and SHE wasn't very happy about it. But you know how it is here, one day it's not ok, the next day it is. Next week, who knows [accompanied by dismissive arm gesture and eye-rolling]!"

We were so floored that the principal actually said that! All of us know how it goes at that place, and the teachers talk amongst themselves about it, but for her to say something! WOW!!!

Pillow Woes

So I get this bright idea before going out this evening to throw my pillows in the wash, since the musty smell of my moldy mattress was beginning to migrate through my pillows, making me sneeze every time I lie down. Not good.

The plan was to wash the pillows, and then throw them in the drier before I left so that they would be partially dry by the time I got home. Then I could just put them in for one more dry cycle, and go to bed on nice, clean, puffy pillows. A great idea, in theory.

Well, it is now after 11pm. The power has been off since I got home (almost two hours ago) and my pillows are barely half dry. I am tired. I want to go to sleep. But I have no pillows to sleep on. I am now debating whether to wait for the power to come back on and subsequently wait for my pillows to be dry, or just go to sleep on a balled up towel.

Hollywood Baby

I have a bone to pick with Hollywood. Or maybe with Disney. Either way, there is a bone to be picked.

Last night my roommate and I went to see Million Dollar Baby. It sucked. Not because it was a bad film. Quite the contraty in fact. It was a very good film, but it still sucked because it was depressing and didn't have a happy ending.

Movies are an escape from reality. They are supposed to provide some kind of refuge from the harshness of the real world. If I wanted to watch something realistic and depressing, I would stay home, save my money, and watch the news. I expect the news to be gloomy and ominous. But that is not what I expect, or want, from a movie.

I blame Hollywood and Disney for this. Since I was old enough to sit down and focus my attention on something for more than 2 minutes, I was plied with "happily ever after" movies. No matter what sadness befell the main characters, I was always guaranteed a happy ending where everything magically worked out. Sure Bambi's mother dies, but in the end he falls in love and is happy. Cinderella was miserable, but she overcame the odds and married the prince. Snow White? Same thing. Poisoned no less, but still living happily ever after. You name it, it ends well.

I have been brainwashed to expect this from movies. If I don't get it, I am left staring in disbelief at the credits like a stunned mullet. Surely this can't be the ENDING???! This isn't how it's supposed to end!!! I'm missing something, right??? Then the lights come on, snap me out of my trance, and I am forced to accept the harsh reality of "unhappily ever after."

This is the feeling I had last night in the theatre. I notice that it has been happening more often lately. Either I am going to the wrong movies, or stereotypical movies are becoming a thing of the glorious past. I don't know. What I do know is that I have a growing list of cinematic sadness: Million Dollar Baby, Open Water (WHY I expected that to turn out well is beyond me!), Ladder 49, and The Perfect Storm, just to name a few.

Maybe I am just being a typical "American" here, but is it too much to ask for a little fluff now and again?

Spoke Too Soon

Do you ever feel you are cursed? That no matter what you do, you never manage to accomplish that one thing you have set out to do? If you answered yes to either of those questions, then welcome to my world!

The reason I asked is because we (me, my roommate Misty, my friends Patricia (whose sister Shirley owns the beach house), Raymi, George, and two other teachers: Stephen and Lindsay) have been trying to go to Shirley's beach house for a weekend getaway since February. And each time we have planned to go, something has happened. And guess what? That's right. Once again something has happened.

Let me recap the other failed missions:

Mission #1: The washing machine broke. Normally this wouldn't be a big deal, except for the fact that Patricia's sister is extremely picky. If the wasing machine is broken, then the maid can't do the daily laundry of sheets, towels, etc. Chaos.

Mission #2: The generator broke. This is a big deal because if, I mean when, the power goes out then there is no power at all! The dark can only be fun for so long before it gets old. And you never know how long the power will be gone for.

Mission #3: The washing machine broke again. Still, not really a big deal, unless you are Shirley.

Today's mission was a little different. As I have already mentioned, we had a two day play rehersal where the children were cooped up in a small, hot room for a total of 9-10 hours. It was hell. Patricia's two and a half year old daughter Ashley is in preschool where we teach, so she was part of the play. As you can imagine, keeping kids locked up for that long while they sweat in crappy, over-priced polyester costumes is not a good thing. Especially when there is no water except what the children bring themselves. To make a long story short, we did not make it out of town because Ashley got taken to the hospital on our way because she was throwing up. She is now staying overnight due to dehydration.

Aside: Being hospitalized here is more commen and less of a big deal than being hospitalized in Canada or the States. This is partly because the hospitals are not so overcrowded that you are left on your death bed in the ER, and also because people tend to use private clinics and not public hospitals (only the very poor people with no insurance use public hospitals). Everyone I know here has been hospitalized in a clinic at least once for one thing or another. In fact, I was almost hospitalized when I had bronchitis, which, in retrospect would not have been such a bad idea since I was so out of it I couldn't even remember taking my antibiotics.

Anyways, Ashley is doing alright. In fact, when we left the hospital she was still talking about going to the beach. Poor thing. We have all figured that for some reason we are just not meant to have a weekend away at Shirley's beach house. We seem to be cursed.

Time for a Little R&R

YAY beach house! One of the advantages to living in this country is the fact that the beach is never very far away. Today I am off to my friend's sister's beach house for a girls' weekend. Thank goodness. It will offer some respite for having been forced to endure a total of 9 hours of screaming children in the non-airconditioned dungeon of a playhouse. I am so looking forward to it even though I will be bringing work with me since I have to finish my report cards. They are due on Monday. But I guess I can work on them while I am relaxing in the sun. Things could be worse.

What a Day!

Before I go into details, I must admit that today was certainly not the WORST day I have ever had. But equally, it was not the BEST day either. It all started off with waking up a little late this morning and the power being off. Let me reiterate that I live on an island in the carribean, and while we have plenty of heat, humidity, and mould, we don't always have plenty of power. When the lights go out, the 8 gallon electric hot water heater can't heat, which means that there is just enough hot water for one shower in the morning. I know that 8 gallons may sound like a lot, but trust me, it isn't. But I digress. I woke up late, which meant that my roommate hit the shower first, and I had a lukewarm / borderline cold shower this morning. My favourite. Then I walked to school (I live about 1 minute away) and simultaneously got stopped in the middle of the street by a parent and almost run over by some freaking moron. Although, who exactly the freaking moron is here could be debated. I did stop after all. After my brush with death, the child's parent, who so wisely stopped me in the middle of the road to talk to me, tells me that his daughter didn't bring her notebooks to school today. Now I have to wonder, a) was that really worth almost dying over? And b) why didn't she bring her journals to school?!?!? We have only been doing this for the last 193 days. I just don't get it.

But on with the story. Today was Sport's Day. Read: The kids rotate from station to station playing different sports all day. ALL DAY! For teachers, that equals 6 hours of wasted time that we can never get back spent sitting and watching children run around. I shudder at the thought of all the things I *could* have been doing instead, like cleaning out my cabinet, organizing my classroom, finishing report cards, etc.

But it gets better. Tomorrow is the all-day play practice at some theatre for the whole school. Just imagine one room without air-conditioning, and over 100 kids who are supposed to stay sitting and remain calm and QUIET for 6 hours while the disorganized Theatre Arts teachers try to figure out what the hell they are doing for the final performance of the play, which is the day after. Oh joy! Nothing like a little advanced planning to make things go smoothly. Suddenly, I have turned into a babysitter. Only 8 more days to go!