March 2, 2011
Something happened this morning.
I have no idea what.
But it was a sh** storm from the time I got into the car until I was standing in my intro crim class ready, finally, to give them their midterm.
Sitting down, with a few minutes to pull myself together, I am trying to figure out what I did to deserve such a crappy morning.
To begin, Em doesn't get into the car until 8.20.
I wanted to leave at 7.50. . .8.00 at the latest.
And I know I should have left her to fend for herself.
However, all that would have happened was she would have gone back into the house, donned her comfy clothes, collected Reilley and returned to the warmth and relaxation of her bed.
It seems to me that making her get into the car and taking her to school was a far better punishment.
The only person who was punished, however, was me.
When Em gives attitude and "sass" as she likes to call it, she does it well.
I asked her if she wanted to be picked up afterschool to be taken home, or, if she wanted to walk to my office.
She said she needed time to think about it.
She'd let me know later.
Consequently, Em is walking afterschool to my office whether she wants to or not.
Car drives are a privilege, not a right.
That's why there are school buses.
Em in backseat, I am getting ready to pull out of the driveway when the bully-from-up-the-street-who-doesn't-work-but-allows-his-wife-to-support-him-and-therefore-had-oodles-of-time-to-watch-what-the-neighbours-do decided he was going to police me to see if I drove out of our U-shaped court in the manner he has deemed appropriate.
I've had enough of his bullying.
And this was not the morning to push me.
But he did.
So I informed him that perhaps he should find something better to do with his time.
There will be more.
Today, if I have my way.
I just don't have any more time to deal with little men and their petty issues.
I will complete my mission.
Just to keep things on an even keel, this had to be the morning when the Tim Horton's drive through line up had spilled out onto Prospect Street, leaving a string of angry non-Tim Horton's drinking commuters in their wake.
Can't go over them.
Can't go under them.
Can't get around them because the traffic in the next lane, those commuters not stupid enough to find themselves trapped in the line of Timmie's addicts, were not willing to let anyone else in.
If there was ever a morning when I seriously contemplated getting out of the car in the middle of the road for a good, cathartic scream that would have lead to my inevitable arrest, this morning would have been it.
But I didn't.
I'll save that for another day.
At 9.00 am I had an exam to give.
One that I hadn't copied yet.
Nor collected the exam booklets.
And of course because I was in a hurry, and late, when we arrived at the parking lot next to our building, there were no parking spots to be had.
Because students had decided to park in the faculty lot.
Stephen, sensing my stress and perhaps feeling somewhat guilty for his part in making me stressed. . .
. . . because Stephen doesn't necessarily deal with sass and attitude in the same way I do. . .
offered to drop me off and locate an alternative parking spot, across the street, allowing me to dash into the building with my 25 pounds worth of stuff I carry with me on a daily basis, hop into the elevator, and get to the fourth floor, collect some exam booklets, make copies of the exam and arrive at my class on time.
Far too optimistic for this morning, I'm afraid.
The elevator was out of order.
In my winter boots, winter coat, carrying my 25 pounds worth of stuff, I begin my ascent to the fourth floor.
Arriving sweaty, I collect the things I need and head back downstairs to make the copies and then further downstairs, because of course my class is on the bottom floor, my office on the top floor.
It wasn't until everyone had their exam and was writing that I was able to take a couple of minutes and catch my breath.
Pull myself together.
And start sorting out sassy children.
I am crossing my fingers, eyes and anything else that can be crossed that the remainder of the day improves.
Bookclub tonight, so there is something to look forward to.
Provided no more catastrophic events occur between now and then.
Title Lyric: Sassy by Katerina Graham
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