Hooray! I've got just under two weeks of teaching at summer school left. That's just 18 more lesson plans to write (not counting the 2 that I already taught today but never got around to writing up the plan), 16 more sessions with my reading groups from hell, and just 9 more opportunities for Trevon to tell me it's "straight up cheap" when I ask him to stop singing songs about Jamaica in the reading room because it's making it hard for the other students to be good learners and for me to be a good teacher.
Losure and his fellow Texans arrived in the city this weekend. So things should get interesting...and by interesting, I mean drunk and broken. I was feeling under the weather this weekend and not up for painting the town red, but I plan on making up for it next weekend (which is also Caitlin's big birthday weekend). And, I hope to celebrate big-time the following weekend, which is Losure's last weekend, and also the official end of grad school for me. It'll be even cooler if I have a job by then. I'm not sure what to say when people ask what I do...right now I say I'm in grad school, but if I can't say "I'm a __ grade teacher" after school's done, should I just go into my explanation about how I'm comfortable with my afternoon tv lineup but still unsettled for the morning since Katie Couric's departure?
Well, I guess there are still a few weeks left to work on that response. In the mean time, I'm living in a dump of a room. Off to take care of that.
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