This is your middle school spy reporting live from a harrowing location: Math Class. It isn’t going well, the natives are regressing before my eyes. In September they all resembled terrified hamsters ready to jump at the first sign of the lunch bell. Here we are in March and they resemble Ridlin-deprived first graders. The insults are the same – essentially – the language is more colorful, but the sentiment is the same. No one is in their seat longer than 10 minutes at a time, everyone always has to use the bathroom, and the hygiene …. the (LACK OF) hygiene, y’all. If I had to whittle it down to words, the best I can convey is ‘wet raccoon flop sweat’.
We still have a week ’til Spring Break and the staff is s t r u g g l i n g to keep it together and not snatch heads clean off of shoulders.
It’s the end of days here, folks! There is an assembly and a school dance on the schedule for the week just to drive any remaining sanity and social expectations down the clogged toilet.
If we were to represent the mentality of the students and the temperature of the staff patience, it would resemble Mad Max … under a mountain.. during an earthquake .. that unleashes a Tyrannosaurus Rex.
Check on your education professionals, folks. They are not ok. Just drop a Starbucks/Wine/Vodka and bottle of Excedrin on their doorstep and back away quietly.
And parents?! Listen up. You take those kids during this spring break and you put the fear of God in them to explain how talking back to teachers is not it. Having phones out during class with the excuse of , “but i’m texting my mom” is not it. Declaring your loathing and hate for the class you are sitting in is not it. Send them back to school with the understanding that you are not going to back them up when they are rude and disrespectful to a staff member – or any adult. You know why? Because these feral humans are going to be the ones in charge of your social security one day. They are going to be in charge of your medical care. They will have to understand how to have a modicum of respect for someone who has factual-based knowledge that matters at some point in their lives.
If you do not find my body or hear from me in the next 24hrs, they have found me. They have found me and have done something awful to me because i’ve leaked this information.
When in doubt, follow the doughnut crumbs, tears, and used snot rags to find my hideout.
SEND HELP!
Sarcasmica 