BUS-TED

It's still last week -- stay with me a day longer; I promise I'll catch up to you -- and I am going into my own classroom to secure the borders.  It's Walk-About Day, a day when parents and students that I am about to have are able to come waltzing through the school and our classrooms to see where they're going to be having classes. I don't have to be here, but I want to be here.  I might be able to get about thirty minutes of work done in the two hours we have open campus.

I don't want to be too early, so I make a loose plan to leave my house around 7:20.  My backpack has stuff I need to bring to school: tea to restock the team's supply, papers to copy, water bottles, etc.  I leave my driveway, turn right onto the one-way street and --

Damnit.  Damn, damn, damn.

Twice in less than twenty-four hours I have forgotten that school has already started in the town where I live.  I am stuck behind a school van-bus that is waiting ... waiting ... waiting ... waiting for the kid to come out of the house.  Finally, after the line of cars stretches back onto the railroad tracks, the van-bus moves forward without the student and pulls over into a parking space.

Thank you, considerate bus driver!  Now I can get going and no one behind me will be hit by the commuter train.  So far, it's a win-win. 

I head up a side street, trying to calculate the possibility of being stuck behind another bus.  I mean, I'm in no real hurry.  The Walk-About at my school doesn't start for another ninety minutes.  But, once it does start, I will be on point and en pointe for two straight hours.  I just want to get to my classroom and get some stuff organized before the mayhem begins.

Oh, no. I see one of the big yellow buses up ahead.  Booooo.  Luckily, it turns before I have to merge on to the main road that will take me out of my hometown and into my work town.  At the end of the street, I look to the left and see a line of traffic coming.  An endless line.  It's as if no one has taken the highway this morning; they're all on the back road track.  I decide to take a deep breath and relax while waiting for the line of vehicles to move past.  I even get a little misty-eyed when an eighteen-wheeler hauling Bud Light crosses my path.

Finally, I am on my way, but I hit every possible red light except for one that has been yellow for a bit, and I run it anyway as it turns red.  I know, I know; this is illegal.  Then I remember, "Oh crap.  School started yesterday.  The police will be EVERYWHERE."  I check out the speed limit, get my car to that exact miles per hour, and set my cruise control.  No way am I getting a ticket (now that I've already broken the law this morning).

The Walk-About goes well, except that parents and children are still coming into my room and invading the building over an hour after the end time of the event.  Finally, I shut off my lights, close and lock my classroom, and skeedaddle out the back door.  If I'm not going to get anything done, then I can "not" do it at my own house.

Besides, if I don't leave soon, I'll be stuck in the afternoon bus traffic back in my hometown.  It takes me two days to figure out this simple truth, but I guess I can forgive myself.  After all, I still have a little bit more of my summer before I need to get my head on straight for my own daily commute.