We Are Drowning In Our Own Insanity...

...Or Maybe We've Just Dropped Our Spoons In The Gravy

(Alternative titles - Slowly Spinning Out Of Control and/or The End Is Near, Yet Never Near Enough)

We had a clerical day today (which means that all the teachers come to work and frantically try to organize files, sort through nine month old piles of "stuff" (read "shit"), maniacally fill out paperwork and spastically come together to try to the plan for next year better than the plan for the past year. Oh yea, and we gossip and throw around F-bombs like we are getting paid by the use. We revel in wearing overly sloppy jeans and inappropriately skinny tank tops. We eat lunch at a normal hour (not 11:00 a.m.), pee when we want to, and occasionally (gasp!) make a personal phone call during the day. It's like Field Day For Teachers.

However, this year has been particularly intense. Administrators are feeling the pressure from above and in turn, teachers are put under so much pressure that I'm waiting for one of us to spontaneously burst into flames. So, it stands to reason that everyone has lost it....

My symptoms are having anxiety dreams. I dream that I come home to find out that my husband and I are moving, but I haven't packed. All of our stuff is in unmarked boxes which are now in various different places. Some are at my parents house, some at our new house, some at the old house and some are missing on a runaway truck. It's not normal. And I've been having this dream roughly 2 times a week...I know, I need help.

Today Ms. Cocktails Before Noon organized a Potluck Lunch where everyone was supposed to bring a dish from their "homeland" which was big enough to serve ten people. The announcement was made that lunch was ready, and like scavengers, we raced down stairs ready to elbow each other out of line. Usually these types of lunches are characterized by people putting various rolls, sodas, waters, cookies... basically anything remotely portable, in their purses as they simultaneously pile their plate, letting the serving spoon slip into the warm goo of each tinfoil tray as they recklessly make their way down the buffet line.

But today we were in for a treat. Ms. Cocktails Before Noon is also showing symptoms of something other than her normal public drunkenness. I think it is a case of the crazies. Or perhaps she has literally flipped her weave (yea, she has one too).

Everyone is poised and ready to begin the free-for-all when Ms. Cocktails Before Noon silences us all in order to make a speech.

Ms Cocktails Before Noon: "Well, frieeeends....are we in for a treat! Today, on this glorious day (insert some "mmm-hmms" and "amens"....I am dead serious) we are blessed with the food of our people! (some cries of "Go on!" from the peanut gallery) Today, we are together to dine side by side in the food of our history! ("Go ahead!") Today, we are to be tempted by the treats of our brothers and sisters! For today, we have each brought a piece of ourselves to share with each other."

At this point, I'm wondering if I've misread the memo. A piece of ourselves?? I brought a cold rice salad. It's good, but I'm not sure it qualifies as the "food of my people", the "food of my history" or a "tempting treat." And it certainly isn't "a piece of myself."

Ms Cocktails Before Noon continues: "And now, I would like to invite you up to share with us the majesty of your preparations! (I am so not making this up.) Ms. Teacher, come on up."

Ms. Teacher walks over to Ms. Cocktails Before Noon, followed by cat calls and a wave. There is excessive cheering as Ms. Teacher launches into the tale of how she put together her quiche.

After Ms. Teacher is finished, Ms. Cocktails Before Noon continues her diatribe by lecturing us on the virtues of healthy eating and the "culinary delight" of preparing your own food. She tells us the story of her first cook book...

My principal, the Miracle Worker, strolls by, leans over to me and whispers, "She's really feeling it today, huh?"

At least someone else sees it. Roughly 35 minutes after we were called downstairs, we were allowed to eat the food of our people.