So I swear she saw me smiling and wasn't quite satisfied that I wasn't visibly upset so she went right into her office and shot an email at me "And also...be prepared to blah blah blah.."

It's getting comical. Guess what? I bet your days are more numbered than mine and your failure at scapegoating me is making you awfully edgy, resentful, and vindictive. Yes, that is our office 'culture' and that is what the consultants will be hearing about...from almost all of us, I"m sure.

Thank gawd for documentation, documentation, documentation.

If i can just hang on that long.

Time for promotion to Director, so you can disprove the Peter Principal.

I hope you're right with respect to IM. Me? I embody the Peter Principle.

My own entry in the thread: My little teensy daughter is learning to drive. 35MPH has never seemed so fast.

Okay, so, I found the appropriate thread for this tale.

On Friday, three days before school starts, the school district informed our elementary school that their class ratios were unacceptable. Too many second-graders per class, not enough first-graders. One of the first grade teachers must become a second grade teacher, effective immediately.

First off--what the fucking fuck? This poor teacher is expected to do what?! Nevermind all the kids who have already met their supposed teacher, visited her classroom, set up their supplies in their desk, and so on.

Of course I'm telling you this story at all because they chose Minifob's teacher to fall on her sword. They spent all night Friday helping her move everything over to a new classroom and remake all her supplies, and then the principal called all the affected families on Saturday morning.

Fortunately, they moved him to another one of the teachers on our preferred list. We explained the change to Minifob, and he wasn't upset... because he didn't get it. He kept talking about how his new teacher, Ms. P, was going to be a substitute in Ms. McB's class. Or how his teacher was going to be some nonexistent combination of the two, named Ms. McP. So I marched down to the school building with him, hoping that surely someone would be there to let us in, and I could at least show him where his new classroom was.

We got lucky. I flagged down a teacher leaving the building, she let us inside, and it turned out his new teacher was actually there in her classroom setting up. She's a wonderful lady, and I think Minifob will do even better with her than he would have with his original teacher. So all's well.

I expressed my sympathy for the terrible situation the teachers were forced into, and she said there was actually one time the district had done it to them after school had already been in session for a week. They're just a bunch of giant dicks, apparently.

I'm glad that you were able to sort this out, for you and the Fob.
Confusing and upsetting for any child his age, but appalling for Fob specifically. Dicks.

I'm going in on Wednesday to do an extra day (overtime too! yay!)
I think one of the big jobs is finishing the move of all of Mr W's stuff into Ms M's classroom and vice versa. One of the boys moving up has an induction loop (not sure if that's 100% accurate - bear with me) and the equipment is in Ms M's classroom, but not in Mr W's.

Weirdly - very, very weirdly - they decided to allocate him to Mr W. Both teachers run identical classes at that end of the school. It's done purely on birthdays. Why couldn't M move up to Ms M's class instead of making Mr W move? He's been in his particular classroom for years and is well entrenched. Just silliness.

All I can think is that the school is keen not to treat M any differently to another child. But making teachers swap classrooms for his sake is pretty much treating him differently then any other child.

Still - overtime :)
(I'll probably end up cleaning out the fridges in the staffroom - blech!)

Clod, I admire, respect and like you very much but are you SURE you want to live in Texas?

I just popped in to say that this thread title makes me snort every time it pops up on the screen. :)

As for something related to the thread... I'm currently sitting alone in one of the worlds shadiest motel 6's, and I have to stay here for a few more hours. Came to help a friend out since her husband had to work at the last minute and she didn't want to stay in a motel by herself in an unfamiliar town. Probably a good bet now that we've seen the place.

BUT in a few hours my stay will be over, and hopefully it will be uneventful until then.

fuck me.

I started this post to complain I'd been on hold for an hour and thirteen minutes with the transportation office of the school district. understandable, it's the first day of school here.

As I typed, they fucking hung up on me.

Then, I lost this post, had to retype it all. whatthefuckever.
I have to leave the house now anyway.

goddammit.

Don't look in the mattress. Or at it for that matter.

People are like wild animal crazy today/tonight.

I picked a bad day to quit drinking. ;)

Gawd, the transportation department is the worst here. All the lines go straight to voicemail, no exception, and they don't even pretend to ever check them or call you back. Only the most degenerate people drive school buses, so only the most degeneratest of those people ever get promoted to run the place.

I didn't know you moved to Ann Arbor....

This is something that wasn't working out, but ended up amusing me.

Yesterday while driving the 50 moutainous miles from the coast to PDX,
I was behind a BMW sportscar whose driver was driving me and a hundred other following drivers crazy.

When the road was 1-lane each way, he slowed down to 35 mph, and when
there was a special passing lane he would and drive in the "passing lane"
When I or someone else would try to pass on the right, he would speed up just enough.
When the road was reasonably straight and I should have been able to pass, he would speed up to 60+.
By the time we got out of the mountains and to a double-lane road, I was almost a good case of road rage.

Then I passed him, and saw that he was a fairly young American Indian.
My reaction was... "You got me this time" :smack:

I don't know about other areas of the country, but here in Oregon,
driving that way is a form of public protest by some Native Americans.
Usually it happens on Reservation land, and you can get trapped behind
a carload of kids, doing only 5-10 mph for endless miles.
But it can happen anywhere, as it did to me yesterday.

The first time it happened to me, I did get upset.
Later someone told me what was going on, and since then I've sat back
and enjoyed the scenery and had the satisfaction of NOT getting all riled up.
After all, finally getting the message of someone else's protest is half the fun.

You need a faster car.

I was informed today that due to a sudden lack of work, I wouldn't be needed at my freelance job next week, and for the foreseeable future (hurricane aftermath and all. FU Sandy!).

It was a corporate decision to pick off the low-hanging fruit, to save whatever miniscule money they can in the wake of the disaster (Really? FU corporate decision makers, too).

But...it was nice that folks there were very pissed off about the prospect of not having me around. At least I was wanted, dammit! :) And it was a far commute, so it's kind of a relief not to have to travel all the way out there now.

I just have to keep my fingers crossed, and hope I either find other employment quickly, or qualify for unemployment...