Intrepid Girl Reporter

I wore the least amount of clothes that could still be considered professional today at work. That sentence took me maybe four tries. The older secretary in my office came in and said, “You know, the man came in yesterday with his little temperature gun, and he pointed it in here and he said it was one hundred degrees!” Which proves that I was actually underselling my situation yesterday, and also leads me to wonder what sort of gun takes a temperature. Because I want it.

No major disciplinary incidents today, thank God, probably because one of the teachers put the entire cafeteria on silent. I realize that this is a cultural thing I just have to get around, but it’s so jarring to hear the teachers yell like that – the assumption is that because they’re kids, they will inherently try to get away with something, and so you have to do a preemptive strike (in this case, ensuring that everyone enters the cafeteria and puts their heads down). I didn’t like that outlook as a child, and nothing much has changed, but I realize that I’m also biased because my parents rarely, if ever, yelled at me in that sort of habitual manner. Yelling was reserved for when we really screwed up and was served with a healthy side of guilt. Anyway. You’re probably thinking: isn’t this your program? To which I must reply: But it isn’t my school. This was done by decree of the principal, who – to be fair – has taken a school with a lot stacked against it and turned it into a success, and she is the final word on this matter. It does make me feel sort of – well, I suppose emasculated is not the right word, but something like it.

Today was a mostly terrible day for mostly the reasons stated above, so instead I’m going to refer you to a much happier matter about which I also wrote.