I have a big, beautiful, thriving low-maintenance plant in one of my front beds that I really like - it ticks all my boxes for flowering plants! I just found out that it an invasive species, and I should pull it out and throw it away. Wah. (Common tansy for the curious.)
On the same note, there is a fabulous plant in the bed down the street that I would dearly love to have in my yard - that one is purple loosestrife (very invasive, and a huge no-no). Apparently I’m attracted to the plant bad boys!
Don’t do it! What you got was The Speech to The Underling so The Underling Feels Empowered. Follow up on even one bit of that speech and you will no longer be The Underling. You will be the Unemployed. Unless you’re tenured; in that case, you’ll be The Marginalized. Now, if any of The Speech addressed your own personal failures, either as a teacher (except of course for the bit about disciplining students) or a person, then you damn straight better work on fixing those and only those. And don’t forget that dangerous, lazy, unprepared, and/or spoiled students are not the administrators’ problem nor the parents’ fault. They are your fault for not “overcoming the challenges the students face”.
This is kind of a reverse rant. Today, at work, the toilet paper roll ran out and someone put the new roll on the spindle. I was beginning to think such a thing was not possible. In the recent past, I’ve found new rolls, that had obviously been used multiple times by multiple people, sitting upright on the spindle or on a nearby shelf.
Now I know there is at least one other reasonable person using the women’s restroom, here on the third floor. Unknown reasonable person, I salute you. The rest of you (shakes head).
Be happy. Be very happy. While I was assigned to an armor battalion, I discovered something I really did not want to know. When I was a tyke, of course “Number 1” and “Number 2” were explained to me, but the tankers upped the game more than a notch–all the way to “Number 11”. I was quite pleased to transfer away. Now I live in China and many of the public men’s rooms have spanking new number 11s. Nasty.
I’ve done this in the classroom, even going so far as to use the phrase “Shut the F**k Up.” I get away with it because I do it with humor and affection, but with an understanding that I’m Being Funny, But I’m Not Kidding.
I’ve been insulting students for two decades now, and I’m surprised that no student has ever reported me to some Snowflakes’ Rights Committee.
The closest I got was a mother calling me about “Little Timothy”…
Well, since this is college age (tech school), I said “Mrs. Tim, I’ve found that anytime a parent fights their student’s battles for them, they end up failing. So why don’t you have Timothy call me. He’s a great kid, I’m sure we can work it out. Thanks, gotta run, bye!”
My mother has been ill, and has had a major set-back. She needs surgery, but they’re not sure she can tolerate it.
We just started repairing our relationship after my son was born, and she turned out to be a fantastic grandmother. She really wasn’t a great mother, and I don’t think she liked being a mother, so she farmed me out to my aunt, who liked having kids around. I didn’t appreciate at the time how brave that was of her.
Anyway, things are finally good between us, and she isn’t going to live much longer. My son is going to lose his last and best grandparent; he’s not going to have even one grandparent at his bar mitzvah. I am going to work to stay close to my stepfather. He didn’t become my stepfather until I was 35, but I love him very much. He is the only grandfather my son has known with my mother, as my father died in 1998. My husband’s father died three years ago. We still talk to his wife on the phone, and send cards, but we haven’t seen her since the memorial service. My son loves “Grandpap,” and I know he’s going to want him to come to his bar mitzvah. I don’t want to discuss any of this with him while my mother’s actually alive, though.
This all sucks.
I’m also selfishly worried she’s going to to die on one of the upcoming major holidays, like Rosh Hashanah or Simchat Torah, and that will always be her yahrzeit. Or she’ll die during sukkot, and we’ll have to sit shiva in the sukkah.
Then, the not knowing is the worst. With my father, we knew for certain his time was very limited. It may be with my mother-- she may not live out the year-- or she may rally and live two more years. Or they may do this surgery, and buy her even five or six years-- assuming she survives it. She is 77, so probably not much more than that, though. Although, her mother did live to 98 1/2. But she was in perfect health at 77.
About students playing with fidget spinners (or cell phones) in class:
Stop lecturing and look directly at those students. “Well, I see people would rather play with fidget spinners than learn about this subject. You must all understand everything in last nights reading assignment. So everyone take out a blank sheet of paper and we’ll have a little pop quiz on the subject. And, yes, this does count toward your grade.” Then reel off 10 reasonably comprehensive questions.
A little more work for you in correcting all those papers (unless you have a TA). But you will only have to do that once or maybe twice and that behavior will stop, at least in your classroom.
I have some invasive yet confined plants (mint, for one). I cut the bottom off of a five gallon bucket, then dig a hole and seat the bucket. Plant the invasive plant in the bucket and enjoy.
I want to buy a concealed carry leather handbag. All the ones I can find are huge like briefcases, or small and crusted over with rhinestones and tassels and tooled leather, because obviously if I carry a gun it’s because I’m playing cowgirl. God I hate shopping. I guess now I’m an old lady of 47 I’ll have to carry a giant grandma purse and fill it up with Rolaids or lipstick or something.
I need to have my work ID badge picture retaken. (I probably had my eyes closed the first time, like Earl). It would have been nice if they could have told me that before Friday, when the photographers were nearby, or Monday, when they were right here on the freaking premises. Now it’s going to be a big pain in the ass.
DrFidelius, when I had my kidney stone, they gave me a cup w/strainer and a week to see if I would pass it. When I didn’t, they set me up for surgery and I had to wear the stint for a week after. I had no bladder control and had to lay out of work for week lest I urinate all over my workspace. That was *worse *than the kidney stone. When the nurse pulled my stint out, I screamed like I had the biggest orgasm of my life.
There’s two main reasons for that. The first and foremost is safety, your’s and the road workers’. Closing the road to one lane allows for a larger buffer zone between the work and traffic, reducing the chance of a worker getting hit by a car, or a car getting hit by a stray tree limb. This also has the added benefit of forcing traffic to slow down.
The second main reason is that doing a lane shift instead of a lane closure would require more personnel and equipment to set up and maintain, increasing the cost of the operation, perhaps to a significant degree.
ETA: Today can go die in a fire. Nothing has gone right, and I’m ready to be done with it.
(Common tansy for the curious.)