The Mad Rush

Friday, March 17, 1995

I had planned to go home fairly early today, three-ish, after finishing this week’s grading and doing next week’s preparation during fourth period. This would allow me time to rest up before tonight’s St. Paddy’s Day bash at the McConnells, and to return the call of an editor of a trade publication to whom I had submitted a résumé two weeks ago, and who left a message on our machine yesterday afternoon. At least, that was the plan.

Wrong.

Before school, Aimee gave me today’s assignment: talk to Vince and find out the status on the video. So after a pretty productive third period, filled with a great Hamlet discussion and a sneaky little E4 (whom I had caught cheating on an assignment yesterday) transferring out of the class, I headed over to the video lab, where I found Vince hunched over an editing bay.

"Howdy." I began.

"Yeah," he retorted in his always charming churlish way.

"How’s it goin?"

"Well, you’re lookin’ at part three. Two’s done. Halfway done with three. Haven’t done four. Or the transitions yet. But we’re gettin’ there."

"Cool." Aimee wouldn’t be ecstatic, but she wouldn’t be paranoid, either.

"Wanna see?"

Not really. Just the facts, sir. Let me get the report to the Hammer. Back to my room to grade. And I’m outta here. But politeness and curiosity got to me. "Sure."

It was great. Computer lab stuff. Voc ed. The severely handicapped class. With more to come on JROTC, ASB, sports, and yearbook. It looked great. This I told him and then I was off.

Aimee wasn’t in her room, so I checked the library. The office. Staff cafeteria. Nowhere to be found. While I was in the cafeteria, Dave Anderson cornered me to get me to agree to giving another Shakespeare presentation to his special ed students during fourth term. Two years ago, I presented Romeo and Juliet to rave reviews. He doesn’t have to twist my arm much... this year we’ll do Macbeth. And I went off to track down Hamm.

At the end of lunch, I found her in her room. I delivered the status report, and she told me of her morning. Science evidence is missing. The action plans--new copies--still have not been put into faculty boxes. And the room in which the WASC team will be headquartered, the Career Center, is a bloody mess. Dust so thick it couldn’t be wiped away. Aimee had sent student volunteers and aides to the CC every period so far today, and the room was still a mess. She sounded stressed.

It wasn’t like we’re forty-eight hours away from the arrival or anything.

I was almost out the door, when I did something really stupid. I asked what’s next. She told me that she was heading over to the library to take the stuff over to the career center. And I asked if she needs help.

Stoopid. Just call me Dumbest.

For the next two hours, I carried evidence boxes from the library to the CC. Set up computers and printers. Got network connections from Metcalf and set them up to link the Macs to the printer. Helped Aimee move furniture. Arranged evidence boxes. Did a final clean-up and polish of the room.

It was now three-thirty. I headed back to my room to do that grading and the class prep. DOLs from both first and second period needed to be done. Old homework from each class as well. The 4/4H CultLit from yesterday (the shotgun essays from earlier in the week would just have to wait for this weekend... not that there will be much time: I need to shop for Lisa’s b-day gift, change a light fixture in the dining room, do computer work, cut the grass, and be back here on Sunday to help welcome the visitation team). Class preparation started. Cleaned the boards. Put next week’s overall agenda up, as well as Monday’s period-by-period specific agenda. Took down this week’s grades, so that next week’s grades can be put up on the bulletin board on Sunday (Monday morning will be impossible, as I have to meet with the visitation committee at six-fifty...and that will probably last until just before first period begins). I also put up next week’s DOL sentences. Then I remembered that I needed to put together the English Nine progress reports. I had had Tisha put the names of the students on the slips that I will hand out Monday morning (shit, I forgot to put that on the on-board agendas...gotta re-do that). Now I needed to put the number and names of the missing assignments on the slips, so that they could be taken home and signed off by mommy or daddy or the friendly household guardian. This threw me off by even more time. Then I changed the on-board agendas. Then put Monday’s assignments (DOL, Weekly Grade, and Progress Report) on the assignment/grade sheets on the bulletin board.

I looked at the clock. Four-thirty. Shit.

I grabbed my stuff and I’m out the door, in the car, down the street, into the driveway, and home. Lisa and Kyle greeted me at the screen door. She looked pooped. Kyle looked rambunctious. We went over our days. And I remembered the phone call I needed to make. Shit.

Four-forty-five on a Friday. I called. Machine... office hours are from eight to five, Monday through Friday. There should still be fifteen minutes. But no. I left a message, feeling lame and stupid. This could have been a chance and I could have blown it.

I collapsed back onto the couch. What a week. And it was nothing compared to the one coming up.