Which Way is Up?

I just like this picture. A. Lot. It made me laugh and now I'm not in as morose a state as I was when I set out to write this. Sorry. You were just about to get the weepy version of the week from fucking hell, but instead you get the bitchy one.

Firstly, I have been sleep deprived like crazy. A low-grade 5 - 6 hours a night deprivation for going on two weeks now. Not fun.

Monday- Surprise! You're my first observation of the semester! You spent 80% of the time talking about talking about perimeter (which is just add up the fucking sides, duh) and 10% talking about area (uh, I thought we were supposed to multiply by one half and then the average of base one + base two, and then base times height times length. Shit.) I actually heard the words, "Wait, now I'm confused." and "There are just a bunch of numbers all over the place." I thanked the children who were honest and brave enough to say it, and gave up on that goddamned Elmo thing. I am a chalkboard person. I love a chalkboard. I cannot be fooled into thinking that projecting what I am writing onto a wall is incorporating technology into a classroom. I am all over getting a graphing calculator in every child's hands, installing the navnet software onto every one and having a little on the wall graphing calculator expedition. I want to have a class blog. I am going to save my teaching documents electronically. I am going to figure out what I need to do to display internets sites on the wall, despite my mentor's wincing at the idea. Projecting my small-ass writing onto the wall is not technology. Mechanical pencils with erasers are technology. Doing math in a marker, so students can see it. Not. So, I learned that this week. Use the chalk board. Plus, I get kids up there.

There are only about sixty things I could go on and on about re: the teaching thing, but I need a break for 10 minutes before I get to grading papers, working on my teaching portfolio, and working on lesson plans for the week. For. Free. Seriously.

Monday night, I went to a substitute orientation. Earlier I discovered that I was too honest about the getting arrested in high school thing and now I have to get proof that I was arrested, but it's not on my record and so it was expunged, but there is no record of that. Uh.

Tuesday night I rear-ended someone, after being gone all day long, 10 minutes shy of being home. Go ahead, snicker. My daughters did when I called my insurance company and said I rear-ended someone. Good lord, they are like me. No one was hurt. The person I hit was nice enough. The cops took fucking two hours (no lie) to show up. I drove home with a dripping radiator. I got no ticket because we already had things ironed out when the police arrived, and I think they felt bad. Maybe my van's being smashed and dirty made them feel sorry for me, too. For the first time in my life, I had adequate insurance when this sort of thing happened and they are providing me with a rental car, at least. A schnazzy new red one. It'll only cost $2.00 a day, oh, and the $500 deductible.

Getting it only took half of my day's energy Wednesday. I had two good teaching days and two pretty bad ones this week. I was observed a total of three times. More importantly, the kids are having a 6 weeks test Wed. and I don't know that they are ready.

We found out a couple weeks ago that the pain in the ass lawyer that Mr. Bee hired for some pain in the ass alcohol-related legal issues completely ripped him off, and he's had a warrant, the guy hadn't turned shit in and now he's gotten someone by referral who is good, but of course that is not free.

Did I mention that when Mr. Bee and I went in to file our taxes, we found out that we were annoyed at receiving only six-hundred at the time of our stimulous check payment for good reason. The IRS reports having sent up $1200. No. Really. No. Now, I am supposed to prove that, and there was no way I was going to sign a tax document that said otherwise and so now there will inevitably be a delay on our sweet (not) $100 tax return.

Hey, hey. Today is my birthday. I'm not 40. I'm 39. I have a lot more I could bitch about, but I forgot to take my thyroid medicine today and am about to fall into a hypothyroidic coma. The good thing is that my work performance is really not being affected.

Don't worry your pretty little heads off about my sexuality, as I know you all are. I am still a lesbian. I almost had an orgasm with Mr. Bee thinking about my (male) therapist because he's paid to listen to me, and with him I'm gay. Good lord, I'm ascrewed and sexually frustrated, I admit. I saw the sweetest lady ass ever yesterday and can't shake it from my head and now I'm tired, annoyed with Mr. Bee and poo pooing the movie/ dinner plans for we had for Valentine's Day and my birthday. I have work to do. I'm bloaty, crampy and horny, my dear sweet Aunt Flo.

I am loving the private blog thing. Besides the not posting part, you know, I feel a little safer here, though there are a few more folks I need to hunt down and all. I had a dream last night that my mom found out about my blog after Bob Dylan praised it on the radio. I need to write. Clearly. I am, I suppose, but I still feel extremely disappointed right now.

Dont' I deserve better than all this after working my ass off?

There they are. My tears.


Randal Graves said...

Want me to give anyone the evil eye? I've been practicing and I'll be happy to curse some or many one for you.

Glad to hear your vehicular mania left you intact, fucking hell. I don't play a lawyer on teevee, but any chance Mr. Bee can get his loot back without selling body parts or political assassination?

I'm also glad you enjoy chalkboards, a beacon of joy in a cesspool that was your septic week.

Please don't post that picture again. Scared the fuck out of me. And don't be gay in Alternate Reality #72, because I made us a chicken pot pie for after our game of Uno.

Freida Bee said...

Ok. And, Randal, in Alternate Reality #72, I will be sure to not be a vegetarian.

Sandy Underpants said...

hey Freida. you should totally start a hobby to burn up all the free time that hangs heavy on yer psyche. lesbian coin collecting mayhaps.

Dr. Zaius said...

Kudos from Bob Dylan is high praise indeed, even posthumously.

Don't cry, freida Bee. Happy Birthday!

jin said...

Sending happy vibes your way (um... not the pervy kind. Well, ok, I'll send a few of those too but don't go expecting them all the time)!

Also, a calorie free, protein enriched, chocolate cyber birthday cake for you and you alone topped with many beautiful edible organic roses:

@ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @

Bubs said...

Happy belated birthday, happy Valentine's Day, and best wishes for the speedy departure of the discomfort that accompanies those visits from Aunt Flo.

Sorry to hear about Mr. Bee's lawyer trouble. It's easy enough to bash lawyers, especially if you're the PO-leese, but I can tell you most of the time it's deserved. I can't count the number of people I've seen who've gotten jammed up because they trusted some shithead lawyer who was just in it to maximize his/her fees. I've seen appearances missed, reports not reviewed, cases that could have been pleaded out and disposed of on the first that got dragged through a year's worth of continuances so the lawyer could get more money...

I hope the new mouthpiece does right by your hub.

Cormac Brown said...

Happy Belated Birthday!

The rest will get better, honest.

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