ONE OF "THOSE" DAYS

I'm having "one of those" days. 

The schedule has been altered, so my planning period has been sliced in half, and all of my classes are about 2/3 of what they usually are, maybe less.  There's no time to get anything done, and I'm running at break-neck speed all day long.

The end game is to have the entire school attend an hour's worth of the high school's performance of a musical.  This is an awesome thing for our students, and it's great to be able to use the performing arts center for something other than "big talks" with administration or magazine fundraiser presentations. 

But, the shortened schedule is killing me.  It's killing all of us.

By the time we get everyone settled into the big auditorium, I realize there isn't a nearby seat, so a few of us take our places either standing or finding random chairs to watch from the area near the exits at the back of the theater.  About seventy-five minutes in, I start to get antsy-in-the-pantsy and go stretch my legs in the main hallway outside the exit doors.

This is when I see some teachers from my school wandering around and enjoying free time (an hour and a half, to be exact) while the rest of us who did the mad rush are now supervising the performance.  I mean, seriously.  I'd looooooove to have ninety minutes to sit at my desk and start through the piles of correcting that need to be done.

I shouldn't begrudge them their free time, but, quite frankly, I absolutely do. Why do THEY get to work on their own planning and other backlog?  Shouldn't a "whole school" assembly mean that the "whole school" is expected to assemble?  Yup, that definitely smells like "begrudge" to me, and I'm oozing it right now. 

To be honest, I am so full of "begrudging" that I snap.  Literally.  I am trying to organize my plans for tomorrow, and I need to get into a box in one of my closets, but a stupid yardstick keeps falling on me from one of the upper shelves.  I put the yardstick back.  It falls again.  I put it on a different shelf.  It falls again.  Finally, I grab the yardstick, hold it high in the air, raise my right leg, and bring the yardstick down hard, snapping it in half over my knee until the wood is split into two extremely sharp pieces.

Damnit.  I guess I'm a little bit ... "begrudged."

I end up staying late at work - ninety minutes late, to be exact.  The same ninety minutes that ... well ... that some others decided to take for themselves.  I get to work in the dark, and now I'm leaving in the dark ten hours later, still with a huge pile of work to be done.  And the part that sucks is that when I need a yardstick, I won't have one anymore because I let  "one of those" days get the better of me.