I doubt you've been losing sleep over this, but my tooth was not a wisdom tooth. It's just a major root canal.
A ROOT CANAL.
If you ask me, It sounds just as scary.
The dentist gave me a temporary, medicated filling, and he said he hoped that it would save my tooth. I wonder...Instead of s.o.s.would I write m.m.m? Manage My Mouth?
I know, I know, I've had too much novocaine...
Whatever the case may be, I was ripped off 95 bucks. (On a teacher's salary, it looks like an awful lot!)
I have to schedule another, follow up appointment to make sure that the medication is working, and that would be the deciding factor in whether or not I need a root canal.
Life is just peachy sometimes. :)
So I scheduled my appointment for Tuesday, September 6, the day before school starts. But if the novocaine takes as long to go away as it did yesterday, I better reschedule my appointment to about 3 days before school. I still look like a plastic blow-up toy.
And so just as soon as I thought I had my life straightened out, the school called. Orientation was being pushed off to Tuesday. Monday wasn't going to work out for them in the end.
I called the dentist, but they weren't open labor day, and I couldn't schedule anything earlier because I have to wait at least three weeks before doing anything to the tooth with this filling.
So I guess I'm just gonna have to cut it real close. My life is going to be one big party the next couple of weeks. I just can't wait.
I often wonder whether I should add "barber" to my profession list. I seem to be putting myself into a lot of close shave type of situations.
...And a barber definitely gets paid more! LOL!
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Monday, August 15, 2005
Feeling Overwhelmed
Yeah, so it's what, three weeks to school?
I'm completely and totally petrified. I've already heard that this grade has a reputation for being notorious to teachers. Especially new teachers. This is not helping my nerves.
I'm trying to get in touch with as many people as I can to help out with stencils and preparing different lessons.
I sat on the computer this week typing up a literary terms sheet. I worked on it for almost two hours. And then I revised it, and revised it again, and I just finished doing it again!
If I would've known how hard my teachers worked on their stencils, I would've never thrown them all out! If I could go back in time, I would grab those sheets off the teacher's desk and treasure them for the rest of my life.....
(There's a reason I don't sign my actual name on these blogs....For those of you out there wondering...I'm not who you think I am...You do not know my true identity...I hope!)
Then, yesterday, someone had the audacity to call me and ask for copies of all my history lessons. I almost fell off my chair.
"You want copies of everything I slaved away on for three months??!!" I asked her incredulously. "What were you doing all summer?!?"
O.K., I'm not such a nasty old grouch.
But I did explain to her that I'd be glad to help her with anything she needed, but I'd rather give her my lessons after I'd already done them. It wouldn't be fair to my students, or to myself if other girls out there were learning the same lessons in the same way as my students. I worked hard all summer to make my lessons interesting and different. The other teacher understood, and although she was a teeny bit disgruntled, we hung up the phone on good terms.
And you wanna flip? Two seconds later, I get a call from this girl that tortured the living daylights out of me when I was in school. What does she want? My notes.
MY NOTES!
I politely repeated what I had told the other teacher (I worked hard to control the urge I had to just scream in her ear and bang down the phone,) and I hope she didn't get too insulted.
And then the phone rang and rang, teacher after lazy teacher calling for my notes. I don't know how my name got out there, but it seems that every slacking teacher was relying on my notes, the notes of a first year, inexperienced, scared to death teacher.
After a while, I just stopped answering calls from people I didn't know.
The joys of having caller ID.
I got my school schedule in the mail. It's official. I'm gonna teach. Orientation is labor day. I'm shivering.
I also have a terrible toothache. I've never had a cavity filled before, and I have a feeling this one's a wisdom tooth.
Of course there's no way of telling as I haven't been to the dentist in about...6 years (?) and I doubt that the last time I was at the dentist we discussed wisdom teeth.
So now on top of everything else, I have to make an emergency appointment at the dentist to take care of this. There is no way I can walk in on the first day of school with my face all bloated and swollen. If I need dental surgery on my mouth, I better take care of it pronto!
But like my husband says..At least it'll keep me from talking for a while.
Ahhh, the wise, wise words of my husband. This blog will make sure that they all go down in history.
I'm completely and totally petrified. I've already heard that this grade has a reputation for being notorious to teachers. Especially new teachers. This is not helping my nerves.
I'm trying to get in touch with as many people as I can to help out with stencils and preparing different lessons.
I sat on the computer this week typing up a literary terms sheet. I worked on it for almost two hours. And then I revised it, and revised it again, and I just finished doing it again!
If I would've known how hard my teachers worked on their stencils, I would've never thrown them all out! If I could go back in time, I would grab those sheets off the teacher's desk and treasure them for the rest of my life.....
(There's a reason I don't sign my actual name on these blogs....For those of you out there wondering...I'm not who you think I am...You do not know my true identity...I hope!)
Then, yesterday, someone had the audacity to call me and ask for copies of all my history lessons. I almost fell off my chair.
"You want copies of everything I slaved away on for three months??!!" I asked her incredulously. "What were you doing all summer?!?"
O.K., I'm not such a nasty old grouch.
But I did explain to her that I'd be glad to help her with anything she needed, but I'd rather give her my lessons after I'd already done them. It wouldn't be fair to my students, or to myself if other girls out there were learning the same lessons in the same way as my students. I worked hard all summer to make my lessons interesting and different. The other teacher understood, and although she was a teeny bit disgruntled, we hung up the phone on good terms.
And you wanna flip? Two seconds later, I get a call from this girl that tortured the living daylights out of me when I was in school. What does she want? My notes.
MY NOTES!
I politely repeated what I had told the other teacher (I worked hard to control the urge I had to just scream in her ear and bang down the phone,) and I hope she didn't get too insulted.
And then the phone rang and rang, teacher after lazy teacher calling for my notes. I don't know how my name got out there, but it seems that every slacking teacher was relying on my notes, the notes of a first year, inexperienced, scared to death teacher.
After a while, I just stopped answering calls from people I didn't know.
The joys of having caller ID.
I got my school schedule in the mail. It's official. I'm gonna teach. Orientation is labor day. I'm shivering.
I also have a terrible toothache. I've never had a cavity filled before, and I have a feeling this one's a wisdom tooth.
Of course there's no way of telling as I haven't been to the dentist in about...6 years (?) and I doubt that the last time I was at the dentist we discussed wisdom teeth.
So now on top of everything else, I have to make an emergency appointment at the dentist to take care of this. There is no way I can walk in on the first day of school with my face all bloated and swollen. If I need dental surgery on my mouth, I better take care of it pronto!
But like my husband says..At least it'll keep me from talking for a while.
Ahhh, the wise, wise words of my husband. This blog will make sure that they all go down in history.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Getting Started
O.K. So I started planning some lessons, it's way harder than I thought. Preparing a 45 minute lesson on history takes about 2 hours!! I can spend up to 4 hours a night on these things!
I'm spending this summer working as a headcounselor in a day camp for about 200 kids. I wake up at 6 every morning, and I don't get home until 5-6 in the evening. Then between feeding my husband (the bottomless pit), grabbing a bite for myself, planning the next day's day camp schedule, and preparing some lessons for school, I never get into bed before 1 am.
I have mini nervous breakdowns every so often when I worry about school and start hyperventilating. My husband is even losing sleep over this. He gets woken up two or three times a week when I have nightmares about the first day of school. Like I mentioned before, he thinks that any one who wants to teach must be off their rocker.
So this is about halfway through the summer, and I get a call from the principal of the high school of my school.She's not even giving me an interview. She's desperate, and just needs me to day yes. The principal of the elementary school that I'll be working for recommended me as a great choice. The high school needs a public speaking teacher.
At first, I'm quite flattered. High school? Me? A first year teacher? It does quite bowl you over! But I took the offer home, thought about it, and called her back a week later.
I didn't want the job.
I explained to the principal that as wonderful as the job sounded, I was really overwhelmed. I was teaching two classes in the seventh grade, I am teaching an awful lot, and I didn't think I should be taking another job on.
Then she started begging. This is where it got fun for me.I'm getting paid a mint for this! I know I said that's not why I want to teach, but this calss is not something I want to do right now. If you want me, pay up.
So she is. I'm getting about 27 bucks for a 40 minute period. Some of you out there are probably laughing yourself to tears right now, but to me, 27 dollars an hour sounds pretty good, 'specially in this business!
So I consent to taking the job. Guess what grade this is?
12th grade.
12th grade!!!
Now I know I haven't said this before, but I'm not that much older than they are. If you think about it, I skipped a grade, and then completed some of my schooling on my own. That means if I am two years out of school, I am technically only a year older than these girls.
I am TERRIFIED! these girls are my sister's age. She has friends in that class. Friends who have slept at my house and seen my in pajamas. Friends who whould they choose to do so, would have PLENTY to blackmail me with...
Do you ever get the feeling that you've somehow, without meaning to, bitten off more than you can chew?
I'm spending this summer working as a headcounselor in a day camp for about 200 kids. I wake up at 6 every morning, and I don't get home until 5-6 in the evening. Then between feeding my husband (the bottomless pit), grabbing a bite for myself, planning the next day's day camp schedule, and preparing some lessons for school, I never get into bed before 1 am.
I have mini nervous breakdowns every so often when I worry about school and start hyperventilating. My husband is even losing sleep over this. He gets woken up two or three times a week when I have nightmares about the first day of school. Like I mentioned before, he thinks that any one who wants to teach must be off their rocker.
So this is about halfway through the summer, and I get a call from the principal of the high school of my school.She's not even giving me an interview. She's desperate, and just needs me to day yes. The principal of the elementary school that I'll be working for recommended me as a great choice. The high school needs a public speaking teacher.
At first, I'm quite flattered. High school? Me? A first year teacher? It does quite bowl you over! But I took the offer home, thought about it, and called her back a week later.
I didn't want the job.
I explained to the principal that as wonderful as the job sounded, I was really overwhelmed. I was teaching two classes in the seventh grade, I am teaching an awful lot, and I didn't think I should be taking another job on.
Then she started begging. This is where it got fun for me.I'm getting paid a mint for this! I know I said that's not why I want to teach, but this calss is not something I want to do right now. If you want me, pay up.
So she is. I'm getting about 27 bucks for a 40 minute period. Some of you out there are probably laughing yourself to tears right now, but to me, 27 dollars an hour sounds pretty good, 'specially in this business!
So I consent to taking the job. Guess what grade this is?
12th grade.
12th grade!!!
Now I know I haven't said this before, but I'm not that much older than they are. If you think about it, I skipped a grade, and then completed some of my schooling on my own. That means if I am two years out of school, I am technically only a year older than these girls.
I am TERRIFIED! these girls are my sister's age. She has friends in that class. Friends who have slept at my house and seen my in pajamas. Friends who whould they choose to do so, would have PLENTY to blackmail me with...
Do you ever get the feeling that you've somehow, without meaning to, bitten off more than you can chew?
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
I'm doing all this for what?!?!?!
I don't know if I always wanted to be an educator, I highly doubt it. I had too many goals set for myself as a kid to really know where it was I wanted to end up. Even today, my mind is still swimming with fresh ideas of different things I'd like to do with my life.
If I had the time, and energy, I'd still want to one day be a marketing consultant, an interior designer, a writer, a makeup artist, and the list goes on.
Like my husband says, "Some of it might just have to wait until next lifetime!"
So I think the teacher bug hit me the first time I spoke in public. I was thrilled to see that I had the audience eating out of my hand, and I discovered that I had a pretty great personality that really shone when I gave over some ideas I was passionate about. Eventually, that led to me wanting to become a teacher.
So I applied to a million schools. It was tough. I never dreamed it could be so hard to get a teaching position. I spent a year applying, going to interviews, subbing, and coming home for a good cry.
My husband, ever the supportive one, thought I was nuts.
Let me explain something to you before I go further.
My husband is a hedge fund manager. He is totally and completely business minded. He does not, cannot, and will not ever understand why a person like me wants to teach. As many times as I explain to him that the profession of an educator is not one that takes a business mind, he doesn't understand what it means to work for something you really believe in. To work for something you believe is special, to work for something that requires more heart than anything else.
Knowing this, you can see why my better half thought teaching was a waste of time.Anyway, after a year of perspiration, dealing with some strange people, subbing classes of bratty 12 year olds, I was offered a fantastic position as a seventh grade teacher in a prominent school.
I signed the contract without batting an eyelash.I'm getting paid less than minimal wage. I'm getting six thousand bucks for a whole year of preparation, controlling teenagers, and working at home until way past midnight.The truth is, in my community, that's what a first year teacher gets paid. It's shameful, I know. But the raises every year are more than nice, and besides, I'm not doing it for the money (although getting paid would be nice), I'm a teacher with heart.
It's at time like this when I'm looking back a couple of months, that I can actually agree with my husband, (and don't you DARE tell him I said this!) I must be nuts!
If I had the time, and energy, I'd still want to one day be a marketing consultant, an interior designer, a writer, a makeup artist, and the list goes on.
Like my husband says, "Some of it might just have to wait until next lifetime!"
So I think the teacher bug hit me the first time I spoke in public. I was thrilled to see that I had the audience eating out of my hand, and I discovered that I had a pretty great personality that really shone when I gave over some ideas I was passionate about. Eventually, that led to me wanting to become a teacher.
So I applied to a million schools. It was tough. I never dreamed it could be so hard to get a teaching position. I spent a year applying, going to interviews, subbing, and coming home for a good cry.
My husband, ever the supportive one, thought I was nuts.
Let me explain something to you before I go further.
My husband is a hedge fund manager. He is totally and completely business minded. He does not, cannot, and will not ever understand why a person like me wants to teach. As many times as I explain to him that the profession of an educator is not one that takes a business mind, he doesn't understand what it means to work for something you really believe in. To work for something you believe is special, to work for something that requires more heart than anything else.
Knowing this, you can see why my better half thought teaching was a waste of time.Anyway, after a year of perspiration, dealing with some strange people, subbing classes of bratty 12 year olds, I was offered a fantastic position as a seventh grade teacher in a prominent school.
I signed the contract without batting an eyelash.I'm getting paid less than minimal wage. I'm getting six thousand bucks for a whole year of preparation, controlling teenagers, and working at home until way past midnight.The truth is, in my community, that's what a first year teacher gets paid. It's shameful, I know. But the raises every year are more than nice, and besides, I'm not doing it for the money (although getting paid would be nice), I'm a teacher with heart.
It's at time like this when I'm looking back a couple of months, that I can actually agree with my husband, (and don't you DARE tell him I said this!) I must be nuts!
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