Fielding
I spent the last two weeks in the field - student teaching, that is. Loved it. Kicked asses and took names...in a professional, educational kind of way.
I've been on the edge of self-destruct mode for the past week. Between two jobs, night classes, student teaching all day, lesson-planning, and other assorted homework (TONS of physical science essays - I've done 30 pages so far, with no end in sight), I've been getting less and less sleep, leaving me to maintain consciousness by force of will alone.
Today was supposed to be my last day of student teaching. On the drive over (it takes me a solid hour of driving to get there), I sneezed, suddenly and violently. When my eyes opened, I had jumped the curb and was driving on grass. I ran my car into a giant concrete block. The air bags went off in my face, giving me a black eye, a bruised jaw, and a bloody nose. The windshield shattered. The engine died. I'm pretty sure it's headed toward the scrap heap, because the car more-or-less landed on the block before driving over it, scraping it across the entire underside of the car.
The cops came and took my statement - didn't cite me, marked it down as "loss of control". They offered to give me a ride, either to my house or to the place where I was going. Problem was, since it's such a long trip, both places were too far out of their city limits for them to drive me there. They took me to their station, instead. They patted me down on the side of the road and had me ride in the back, on the plastic seats with the thick bulletproof glass between us. I must say, that's not how I imagined my first ride in the back of a police car - I'd always pictured cuffs and flashbulbs, my collar pulled up over my face, and the sidewalks packed with supporters chanting "FREE CIVIL!". The black eye and bloody nose were in my fantasies, but I always pictured them being caused by police brutality rather than an airbag. Needless to say, I'm disappointed.
You know what kills me, though? I didn't get to go in to teach. I had a great lesson lined up, and I really wanted to say goodbye to the kids, you know? I mean, yeah, I'm not happy that I have to find a new car with my no money, and I didn't appreciate having to wait around in the police station for four hours, but not getting to go to school really pisses me off.
"Rick Santorum's got his shirt off,
I think he's grinding Michael Chertoff.
We'll play dress-up with Obama,
He looks good in Bush's pajamas."
-"The Party Party" by Attica! Attica!
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