I got called to the principal's office today. →[More:]

So, I'm in the middle of teaching the first of my double period eleventh grade English Language Arts classes this morning when a school aide comes in and presents me with a sealed white envelope with my name written on it. I thanked her and gave the envelope a quick "ut-oh-what's-this" look before tucking it away in my binder for later. My students saw the look and laughed. "Sometimes these are good," I said, "and sometimes not so good." I then shrugged, and we went back to our discussion of Zora Neale Hurston's, Their Eyes Were Watching God.

Now, I did once receive the complimentary version of such an envelope, endorsing the apparent "professionalism" of my class, whatever that means (if he only knew). But this one was the other kind. The not so good. You see, there was confusion over our twice monthly faculty conferences, which usually meet the first and third Mondays of the month, but with our school, you just never know. They've been known to cancel them, change them, what have you. And they've always given us a flyer in our mailboxes about it and/or posted notices. Except this time, they didn't, and many of the teachers who are supposed to go into work early for the extra meeting (our school has two shifts) plum forgot it was the first freakin' Monday in November, yours truly included.

So, there I am in the library, eating my lunch (aforementioned bologna sandwich, mine with Miracle Whip), hiding from the crazies in what passes for a teachers' breakroom (one mouse-infested corner classroom with two tables for a hundred or so teachers) when one of the librarians comes over and tells me I'm supposed to be meeting with Nan (that's the other librarian/our union rep/a friend of mine) and the principal this period. You see, I'd also promptly forgotten about the tucked away white envelope with said summons. Good grief. I hadn't missed a meeting in years. They're completely pointless anyway, but they're "contractual". Needless-to-say, I was duly contrite and all's well (feined docility can carry you far in life, I've found). No letter in the file or nothin'. (I had even given up my prep period and gone to the afternoon meeting instead, but, alas, that wasn't enough.) And, on top of all this, the internet was down all day at my school, and I missed my bunnies. (Bunnies are the only reason I go into that miserable toxic excuse for a breakroom at all; there are a few ancient computers in there, sticky keyboards and leaky nearby microwaves not withstanding.)

The short of it is, I was a very bad girl. I must be paddled.