First day: The bells were not working, the times for all the classes were changed and the principal didn't tell us a thing. The first lunch was 10 minutes late coming in and who got yelled for it? The noon aides. The ones who weren't given a bit of info. We were told to "keep a closer eye on the times." My answer: no problem.
Second day: Getting the kids used to the rules when 60% live in households that apparently have none. You want to be tough, but temper it with being friendly. I had just finished helping out three kids, turned around to see a girl walking towards me. I look at her and say, "You have permission little one????" She smiles and says, "Yes I do!" The entire interaction takes maybe 15 seconds. I said okay and just as I was turning around to take a look around the room, Shrek (the principal) puts her hand on my shoulder *ewwwwww* and says, "Look, two kids need your help immediately. Pay attention." My answer: no problem.
Third day: not too bad. Crazy as usual. Shrek tells me to keep the kids in the right line so they can be processed on the computer. I told her that the two days previous there was a third cafeteria worker who was doing it, so I didn't want to get in the way. She told me that the third person wouldn't be there for long so I need to stay on the ball. I can do that. But, as soon as she walked away, and I went to help with the line, guess who shows up: the other worker. Ugh. That isn't all: I was opening a yogurt tube (and they SUCK!!!) and got the yogurt all over my fingers. I went into the kitchen to clean up and Shrek was in there, trying to look like super-awesome principal for visiting parents of kindergarteners. She looks at me and says, "You need to spend less time in the kitchen and more time with the kids." I was in the kitchen *once*. My answer: no problem.
Fourth day: Nightmare. We had a full house of kindergarteners. Two tables per class, approximately 40 kids per class, 8 tables in all. Two, count em *TWO*, noon aides. The kids aren't in the right lines, don't know their own names, their teachers names, if they had hot or cold lunch, what table to sit at, where the bathroom is...you get the picture. I had to keep kids in the hot line in proper class order, deal with kids who were in the wrong line and those who only wanted milk. THEN, Shrek brings me five kids who can't find their lunchboxes. "Take them to their classrooms for the lunches." Um, okay. I take the kids to their rooms only to learn their lunches aren't there. I assume that they just didn't find them on the table. It can happen. Three need bathrooms so they need to be taken and watched so they don't get lost. A couple others decide that they have had enough of the cafeteria and walk out. Finally, after a pure nightmare, we get through the whole thing. We survived. We figured even in the chaos, we did okay.
Shrek tells us, "You need to keep a closer eye on the kids. It was your fault for putting the lunch boxes on the tables too close together so that the children couldn't find them. You need to watch for the kids leaving and keep the others in the seats and make sure everyone gets their proper lunches are stay at the correct tables. You need to stay on the ball."
My answer: No problem.
What I want to say: Fuck you bitch. I got your ball right here. How about, "Good job" or "That was crazy but we did it". I don't need a pat on the head, but maybe don't treat me like a fucking moron. Is that too much too ask?
Now, every once-in-a-while I will peruse the openings available at the schools. I am shuffling through them: custodian, Special Ed teacher, bus driver. Then I saw one: Special Education Paraprofessional at the Early Childhood Education Center. O. M. G. I have an Associates as a Paraprofessional for the Hearing Impaired, specializing in early childhood. I am vibrating from tip to toe. More hours, more pay, I get to work with kids one-on-one which I love and even better than that: NO SHREK!!!! So today I am dropping off my letter of intent and resume to the powers that be and hopefully I will be considered for the job. Even if I don't get it, I hope to be put on the sub list. At least then they will know I am here and available. Throwing the dice. Here's hoping.
Oh, the other day I found out that my shitster has told my ex-BIL that I am "A money grubbing princess who cares for no one but herself and has not a care in the world."
Money grubbing? Nope. I wasn't the one who forged a signature to get me cut out of the entire will.
A princess? Eh, maybe.
Cares for no one but herself? Not in a millions years. I should care more for myself.
Not a care in the world? You are right. I have a wonderful home, fantastic husband, great kids,a job and a blessed life.
You have reaped nothing but hatred and misery, so you sowed nothing but hatred and misery.
Peace, Love and (oh please please please) Zombies \IiiI