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| Guacamole ... Guac Guac-amole... (Not me, BTW) |
This becomes extremely difficult in my line of work: middle school teacher. I am pretty much surrounded by people (of various ages) all bloody day long, and sometimes I'll play along, and sometimes I won't.
I have a former student who likes to stop by every morning on her way to her own homeroom in the hallway that connects to where my room is located. This particular morning she stops by and encourages me to join her in a mini dance routine.
So ... I join her. It doesn't matter to me that the entire hall is choked full of students. We dance, laughed at by students and teachers alike. Who cares? I'll be dead soon, anyway.
Later, though, I'm feeling burnt out. It is after school, the bell has rung, the students (for the most part) have left the building. Suddenly, in the hall outside my room, I hear my favorite former student and one of my current students plotting to come surprise me in my room.
I glance around. There is no second access to or from my room. I am trapped. I do the only thing I can do: I hide under my desk.
Mind you, I'm wearing a dress and suede boots, so folding myself under the middle drawer of a metal teacher desk is no easy task.
"She's not here!" I hear them lament.
Ah, safe. I'm safe!
No. Wait. Another teacher passes the girls and says, "Oh, I was just talking to her. She is definitely in her room."
Damnit.
I don't move. I'm not even sure I'm breathing. I stay completely still.
I hear the girls' feet shuffle back into the room. One of them repeats the belief that I'm not there. Suddenly, I hear my student shriek:
Busted.
Oh, well. Sometimes I just want to be left alone, but, to be honest, they worked really hard for this; they earned it. I pop up, chat for a while, and let them make fun of my morning dancing. Oh, well. Like I said before, I'll be dead soon. No big deal.
