Friday

Whew. It's been a day and I still have approximately 3 hours to go. Yucky.

I have had the students write formal business letters regarding the blood drive. Long, tedious project. Apparently they have never ever proof read anything before. So, here I am proofreading 20 letters. These letters need to be corrected and have their final copy submitted within an hour and a half. At this point, I am getting really practical. Does it really matter that their word choice stinks? No! Does it matter that every single one of them has decided I am a Mrs and not a Ms? No! Does it matter that they included things in their letter I specifically told them not to? No! Does it matter that the format, we went over 100 times in not represented in the letter? No! What does matter? Spelling. That's pretty much it. The parents aren't going to know what format I was using. They aren't going to know the details they were or were not supposed to include in the content of the letter. They will probably just think it is cute that all of the students have decided I am married, despite me talking about it and writing my name up on the board. And word choice? Ha. That's a laugh.

So I push past my OCD and fix only the major errors. With about 20 minutes to go before I need to have them all finished. I finish proofreading my last one. Yes, that does in fact mean that some of the student letters about the blood drive which is occurring on Monday will not go home until Monday evening. Do I care at 2:00 PM on Friday. Not at all.

What am I thinking about?

How much I don't want to type up my schedule and how I really just want it to be 5:00PM.

I have been singing a song to myself most of the day. Now that I want to remember it I can't recall it. But it had something to do with trading my red pen for a glass of vodka. I should say. I am not a drinker. I loathe drinking. But at 2 PM on Friday. That's what I am thinking.

Oh, and how I just really want to dance. I have the angry/frustrated/hyperness that Jai likes to see so much when I dance with him. Apparently it makes me a better dancer. So, I am ready. I want to work out my week on the dance floor. But, unfortunately there is still some more week between me and that dance floor.

Good news?

21 days left of being responsible for the education of these children!