My faithful companion (and sister), R, accompanied me to my classroom yesterday. Ladder in hand, we removed the orange webbing from the doorway and climbed in.Teaching is a very glamorous profession.
We were there to put the second coats on shelves and unpack boxes. Lots of boxes. But we ran into a few problems. Actually, multitudes of problems. The porch is not built. The bathroom does not work because the water is off. The portable has shifted because of the leak. There are severe ridges and soft spots in the floor. I'm thinking I could loose a first-grade-sized student through this floor.
The school custodians climbed the ladder and peeked in. I love those guys. Where would our schools be with these loyal workers? They pick up after us everyday and come back for more. With a smile.
They asked if I'd noticed the floor. Well...yes. The suggestion was made that perhaps I should stop unpacking my boxes. And maybe even consider repacking. Because the jury is apparently out as to how (and when) my portable will be repaired.
Three weeks to go. Except the word now is "STOP".
This is my 20th year in the classroom. I am used to last minute repairs. I know it will be all ready for the first day of school.
Even if I have to bring my own ladder.
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