Progress isn't always pretty.
My classroom has been entombed into the new school the town is building. I have to keep the shades drawn because it's creepy to be able to see the workers on the other side of the plexi-glass. Must be weird for them, too.
Within two weeks, my windows will be removed, and I will be boxed in with drywall. Until then, I am supposed to move my supplies off of and away from all window sills.
And truly this is a fine idea, except... Except that the janitor decides to take down my shades. All day long we can glimpse at the workers and they can glimpse right back. It is, in a word, CREEPY. It's kind of like standing at the giant tank within the New England Aquarium, as if we are waiting for the sharks to swim by.
Even though we can hear the men, we forget that they can also hear us.
I have a lot of work to catch up on since we had a snow day, so I stay in my room during lunch. I am battling a bronchial infection, and I am working intermittently on moving stuff away from the dust-infetsed windows that bear the powder of construction and progress. As I am sitting at my desk, I start sneezing. By the end of the fifth sneeze, I look up and see a construction worker looking at me through the dirty glass, then he quickly looks away.
Apparently my sneezing scared the shit out of the guy as he worked in that alternate dimension. My teammate says I should fart and see what happens. Pity I only have one more week to torture these workers. They've been a part of my life for over a year now, and I'm not quite sure what I'm going to do when I am expelled from the belly of the beast and can no longer watch the new school being built from the inside out.
One thing I do know -- sneezing isn't going to be nearly as entertaining.