Half Day of School (That Was Half Good)

Today was the last day of classes at my high school-- next week is exams-- and the day started in a lovely fashion, I played morning hoops and I made my very first shot-- a three-pointer to win the game-- and, after much sweating, fouling, rebounding, and running around-- I made my last shot-- another three-pointer to win the game (and who remembers all those missed shots in the middle? nobody!) and then I walked off the court, happily, and into the locker room, where I showered up and prepared for an easy half-day of yearbook signing (or makeshift yearbook signing since the school collected back all the yearbooks because of the yearbook debacle) and watching "Trini 2 DE Bone" the Hamlet 5.1/alas poor Yorick/Laertes jumping into the grave adjacent Atlanta episode-- but then things took an odd turn: we were watching the eulogies for Sylvia and a student from one of my other classes walked in, and-- some context-- the seniors can be exempt from exams, if they have certain grades or have completed certain requirements, it's teacher's discretion, and its a nice senior privilege-- but this student had cut the last two classes and hadn't taken the test that was required to get an exemption form (which needs to be signed by a parent or guardian) and she came into my room today and attempted to hand me an exemption form and I was like: "what? I didn't GIVE you an exemption form" and she was like "I wasn't here when you gave them out" and I was like "Okay, then you needed to come ask me for a form, not filch one and forge it and then hand it back to the originator and think they forgot that they didn't give you a form?" and then I told her to come back later when I had processed the absurdity of this event-- but she never did-- and then I wrote her up and emailed her parents and now she's coming in on exam day, the only student in that class that is coming in-- so annoying-- and she'll take the 12th Night test and some other exam that I cook up for her . . . and if she would have just asked earlier in the week, I would have told her, take the test and then I'll give you an exemption form but instead she took this oddball road, which is inconvenient to all parties involved (but I had to draw a line in the sand on this one . . . so obnoxious and entitled and just plain silly-- I can't think of the proper metaphor for this: is it like going to the DMV with a license that you made yourself and asking them to certify it? is it like giving your doctor a prescription for opioids that you wrote out yourself?)

2 comments:

  1. firmly in dave's corner on this one. think you should make her take the test at a desk close to yours, and you should put your shoeless feet up on your desk and waft in her general direction.

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  2. i was already planning that! feet up, in sandals, while reading my book . . .

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