(Originally posted on Myspace 9/11/2006)
Okay, so, for those of you who didn't know, I am now a teacher. It's fun, I love teaching. I love students. I love having an office and two classrooms. I love picking music and telling people what to do. I HATE principals.
Okay, fine, I don't hate principals. In fact, as people, I quite like most of them. But I have a phobia of principals and their offices. It's a deep-seeded phobia, planted before I ever even went to school. In every movie, principals are scary. All my sibling hated principals. When I finally got to school, no principal really ever had a chance. Well, that may not be entirely true. If it hadn't been for one principal chasing me and my mom with a snow shovel, I would have maybe been alright. (Said principal is no longer a principal, and now I like him fine, since his face rarely get a frightening shade of puce anymore.)
Then there was middle school. I wasn't the only person afraid of Mrs. Dalton. I can say that she got much more likeable after she retired, but before that I even avoided her at church where I had the protection of parental units.
In high school, all my principals were quite nice, but I rarely saw them during school. That's always a plus.
Frankly, I never saw the inside of a principal's office until I started teaching. That's right... Miss Rawlinson, three weeks on the job, and I've already been to the principal's office twice. Why? you may ask. I guess I got a lot better at rustling feathers while I was in college is all I can think of. But I like me. I'd way rather be the me I am than some submissive little brown-noser like I was. Don't get me wrong, I still brown-nose, just not consistently. And almost never to this principal. But what am I supposed to do? The only times the principal could ever see me have been when I've been in trouble (but according to him, not "in trouble", but "in need of educating about the public education system"). I've tried to see him other times, and he never has time, but as soon as I do something I could have asked him about if he'd had time to see me before, I get in trouble and HE calls ME to the office. What the shiz? Just take the time to talk to me the first time, and save yourself some darn time later, you sports fanatic.
Okay, that was somewhat unfair, cuz he's trying, but freaking A, give me a break. Okay, that's all. A small rant on work.
