I woke up this morning at five, my regular time, and then promptly fell back asleep for another twenty minutes. After rushing through my morning shower and dress routine, I realized that since today was Thursday, I could catch a ride with my host mother and therefore didn't have to leave for another hour. Drat.
After grabbing my toast and defending my decision to use jam instead of chocolate to the maid, I was waylaid by a houseguest who wanted to grill me, for a full ten minutes, about my family and why they live in India. My toast got cold while we talked. Shoot.
I got to school and it turns out there was still testing, which meant that, instead of teaching four classes, I only had to teach one, which, in turn, meant that I didn't have to be at school until noon and therefore had woken up early for five hours of nothing. Crap.
I went to the library to use the new wi-fi internet connection there and it wasn't working. Darn.
I walked to the internet cafe near the school to use the internet there and it wasn't working either. Blast.
I walked back to school, and, instead of walking all the way around to the front entrance, took a shortcut by scrambling up a shaky wooden latter and climbing over a wall, only to find a group of my tenth grade students watching me from a window. They applauded, amused by the sight of this new "Action Adventure Miss Hannah." I was embarrassed. Sheesh.
When I got back to school, the electricity, which includes the air-conditioning, wasn't working. I spent the next two hours mopping sweat from my forehead with a Kleenex. Good grief.
During the one lesson I actually taught, the sound on the DVD player died, so my lesson plan, which involved a short clip from "Crash" as its nucleus, utterly failed. Too fried from the heat to think of a better plan B, I turned the subtitles on and read them to the students, imitating Ludacris's speech habits to the best of my white-girl ability, and replacing the profanity with tamer alternatives: "What the fetch is you laughing at, man?" My students were more confused than amused. Dang.
Suffering succotash, jeepers creepers, jumping Jehosaphat, oh my heck, and for crying out loud: today was not my day.
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2 comments:
Wouldn't it have made you feel at least a little better to have actually sworn?
Though, native Utahn that I am, I can certainly appreciate your use of handy alternatives . . . :)
No, actually, none of those events was really irritating enough to make me actually want to swear. Now, taxi and becak drivers constantly shouting, "hello mister! hello mister!"--that makes me actually want to swear.
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