Yes, it was bound to happen. I finally moved out of the residence halls and into my own apartment. The pace is slower (nice), I can drink beer (nice), I have a bigger bed (nice, thanks to generosity of others), and my phone doesn't ring after 11pm (nice).
The move started my summer, and so far, no real big regrets. However, see below under "The Cranky Commuter."
I started my summer taking intersession classes. One I particularly enjoyed (as it was interesting and practical) was titled: "ADHD and the External Disorders."
Also this summer I decided to take required basic biology. The lab portion of this class is a waste of time; Mr. Luthy had us doing more complicated things in 10th grade. So I've used the class as a test field: does ADHD truly result from a lack of brain stimulation? Yes, yes it does.
I've thrown things in class, I've wandered around out of my seat, on standardized tests I've filled in bubbles in the shape of designs, I've been told to focus, I've been in a group that had to be told three times to "stop doing that," and I've talked over the lab instructor. Trust me, I have new understanding and appreciation for kids suffering from ADHD. If nothing else, summer has taught me that much!
A week into summer session at SMS, I had the misfortune of answering my cell phone one day while I was running some errands in the Union. Turned out to be the Principal of the elementary school where I'd done some subbing during the school year. They needed a "summer school aide," and somehow knew I was gullible. I rearranged my summer class schedule, and three days later found myself trying to console a tearful kid who'd "had an accident" wondering, "What was I thinking?"
Things got more interesting. The district had hired a school privatization company, Edison, to furnish summer lesson plans and supplies, plus this silly incentive system where kids got weekly prizes (I personally cannot afford)--and later the kids got paid $100 for attendance. (All I can say is there's no way that'd work in UP).
The lesson plans themselves were, shall we say, "progressive." Example: building complex boxcars out of a pile of wood (picture power tools) with 75 fourth and fifth graders. Ok, so I could see it with 25 gifted, state-wide nominated, future wood geniuses. Not so much with 75 "farming community" based kids who would rather be anywhere but in summer school (oh, but thank the $100 for their attendance). This was one example. Another: doing four different sugar based "food creation" projects, in one day, with 26 kindergarteners (who've never been to school before). Ok, so I'm really against giving kids much sugar to begin with, (unless they're going home), but doing it several times a day? Exactly how is the teacher NOT to go insane trying to manage the behavior of first--those who're new to classroom structure and school rules-- and second, kids who are now suffering sugar induced frenzy of excitement?
Like I said, the lesson plans made things interesting. I saw it at several different grade levels, as I was the equivalent to a substitute in all ten classes for 15-30 minutes a day. Luckily, I laughed a lot (thank you Whacker Story) and actually had a pretty decent time in comparison to summers of the past. After all, nothing compares to my summer from hell working at Camp Wakahni (psychotic dipshit directors, chasing kids on med vacations through the woods) or my experiences with the Tone School Summer School Project back in Tacoma. At least this summer I made decent money, worked with some fun individuals, and learned a lot about what the teaching profession entails. No regrets.
Spending 2.5 hours a day in my truck, I learned something else this summer. I have terrible bad road rage. #1 Pet Peeve: people who want to go faster than you are, so they go around you and then they cut you off without using their blinker. I'll be honest. I go out of my way to block people from passing me, when I know that this is their intention. If they are uniquely successful, but then fail to use their blinker--that's when the finger and several loudly professed curse words slip out. So does angry revenge tailgating. It's lucky I haven't been shot by some big scary redneck, but dammit, I'm a good driver. I go 5-10 over all the time, I use my signals, I move over when I know I'm going slower than a person should in that particular lane, and I only talk on my cell phone when I'm on the highway.
So yeah, the move to Ozark does have one drawback: I've become quite a cranky commuter.
Just a Summer Desk Worker
Stripped of my access card in mid-May, going from two years as an RA and having been a Conference Assistant last summer--just being a desk worker has been an adjustment.
No real excitement as of yet--and I've made it through basketball camp, Missouri Fine Arts Academy, Missouri District Lutherans, and Steubanville with minimal damage from bitter chaperones chewing me out.
However, I confess. I did react negatively when some of the MO District Lutherans pushed the door alarm on the far side of Shannon. It necessitated me getting out from behind the desk, doing a small scale sprint number to the far door, and pulling out the door alarm button. As it happened, my precise exclamation was, "FOR THE LOVE OF THE LORD!"
Life is good.