The Return of Miss H

School has officially started. You can tell because my desk is starting to acquire its protective layer of clutter. Domesticated desks have lost this defensive adaptation over time as they came to be used in less dangerous environments. Desks out in the wilds of public education, however, still accumulate piles of stuff in an attempt to keep the damage to a minimum when stressed out teachers begin beating their heads against any hard, flat surface they can find. Chalkboards will work in a pinch, but a desk is better because, besides being stressed out, the teacher is also usually too tired to stand. Hence, the desk has become the optimal head beating surface. But school has only been in session for three days, so I am no where near the head beating stage yet. My desk, being quite old and wise and having seen many teachers in its long years of service, is just preparing for the inevitable.


I am actually still pretty excited about the new year, although the grueling schedule, stress of the new year, and my stupid goal to ride my bike to school and back has left me feeling a little wilted...kind of like some of my classroom decorations.

Wilting decorations not withstanding, it has been a pretty darn good first few days. Of course, it's hard to imagine a week that starts out with an iron man T-shirt and a new green pointing noodle turning out anything other than good.
See, here I am on the second day of school, ready to shape the minds and hearts of the future leaders of our government, industries, and society.
Friday, however, was less about shaping minds and more about pretending to electrocute myself when I messed with the cords that connect my computer to the LCD screen. You should have seen those little seventh graders jump when I hollered. Good fun.
The one thing I don't really look forward to at the start of a new year is re immersing myself in the paper correcting ritual that immediately consumes every waking moment of my school year life. I managed to get noun reviews graded, 159 favorite words commented on, and 158 written instruction practices scored at school. That left only 145 one page friendly letters to read, score, and comment on this weekend. I was all ready to buckle down and get some high quality grading done when... My phone rang. It was the devil asking me if I wanted to sell my soul for the chance to become Obama's VP.

Just kidding. It was Elizabeth asking me if I wanted to use some of my limited correction time to go and watch Tony Stark weld metal while wearing a tank top. Being the dedicated educator that I am, I told her "Thanks, but no thanks," and went back to work grading papers. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!!! See the papers there on the floor by my feet? Sorry kids, but Miss H needed some quality time with Mr. Stark and that cute little robot that keeps dowsing him with the fire extinguisher (Seriously, how funny is that robot? They should give it its own movie).
I figured I deserved one more late night out on the town since the rest of my nights for the next 9 months are going to look a lot like this...
The strange thing is ... I'm kind of looking forward to it.