We had this week from hell at school. I really have no idea HOW the snowball of awful happened, but I do know how it affected me. It started with this project that my students were forced into. It was a pilot project set forth by the school administration to try and implement school-wide project-based learning. This has been a pain in our ninth grade teacher asses all year, but the roll out was the last straw. Ninth grade was going to bare the brunt of the pilot. And the ninth grade teachers were taking a hard class hit as well. This class is a squirrelly class anyway. It also has a huge spectrum of personality, productivity, and skill-sets. Add an entire week of project to their docket, especially a project that does not have an immediate purpose for them and chaos ensued. And you know what? I got it. I completely understood their grief and complaints.  This project was communicated to them three days before it started, they had no clue what it was for, and the rubrics were so confusing even the teachers were trying to figure it all out. Their negativity about the whole process was matched, even escalated by my negativity. And I hated being the negative teacher. I am not the negative teacher. I am a freaking joy germ at school. In life – absolutely not – that’s my mother’s role. But at school, I am Susie fucking sunshine.

As I looked at my agenda book, my insides flopped and my heart galloped. I had meetings overlapping meetings. Classes overlapping project. And then we would get an email about changed schedules, or field trips, or extra IB work. Plus we were in the middle of IB exams! That beautiful calendar I spent hours putting together to try and get all of the curriculum in for the exams was ripped to shreds and so was my patience.

Then other teachers were getting emails about the project’s presentation days and complaining to ME. My eyes lit on fire and I was like, “don’t even with me right now! You haven’t been dealing with this all week!” The more I stewed about the project and the changing schedule, the more dark I got. So of course, to therapy I went.

“Pam, I’m stressed!” Can I just say, I freaking love therapy. Everyone should have to go to therapy. I think we would all be so much better if we had a semi-stranger hear all of our problems and try and redirect us into facing ourselves and fixing our flaws and managing our weaknesses. I have had A LOT of therapists over the course of my life and Pam is definitely at the top. She takes all of my bullshit, tells me it smells and instead of giving me potpourri, she tells me that everyone poops but let’s poop like a human instead of a bull and things will be much better.

“Pam, I’m stressed” turned into emotions written on a white board to how can we manage this week to what do you want to tell all of these people making you angry to “well, if you are going to go around thinking everyone is stupid, you are setting yourself up for a world of negative.” Well, damn, Pam! Bomb drop. Ponderings for the week. Self-evaluation and changes commence now. Uruguayan almost hits my car as I am driving back to school. “EVERYONE IS FUCKING STUPID!” Head hung in shame. I can’t win.

By the time Friday rolled around, I was ready for a large drink and Katie’s and my girls’ weekend away.

So, take aways: Sometimes there are stupid weeks and stupid people and stupid reactions to the stupid. But I will say this, all of that balled up anger this week, probably from six months of unfair, gave me a whole lot of energy. I was productive AF! And I wasn’t constantly thinking about the PET scan or even the past six months. I was in this weirdly present state, albeit really pissed present state, but living directly in the moment nonetheless. So alright then. This week sucked. Next week will be better. Off to Carmelo.