Hello there faithful readers. I'm happy to say that standardized testing is FINISHED (for the week)! As I teach Sophomores all day long and Sophomores are the ones tested in the state of Nevada the job of proctoring the tests is mine, baby!
Yeah for me! For those who don't know me, you should know that I just LOOOOOOVE standardized testing. I love having to read a script that requires me to ask perfectly intelligent teenagers if they understand that they need to fill in ovals completely using a number two pencil. Then, to top off the joy of the occasion, I get to sit and stare at kids for three hours at a stretch.
And that was an example of verbal irony. Discuss.
Anywhooooo I sold both of my long preps this week so that I could proctor (great word, huh?) the test in my own classroom rather than in someone else's or--horror of horrors--the cafeteria. I got a lot of my reading for class done, and became totally addicted to thepioneerwoman.com (sidenote: if you haven't read of city girl Ree's adventures as a housewife on a working cattle ranch, you really really should).
But, with the selling of the preps comes the reality that I could not leave my classroom at all during the first two periods each day: 7:00-10:00 and then I had to take my testing materials downstairs and then get back to my classroom to teach my next class during the four minute passing period. This means no time for the potty as I teach upstairs and down a long hallway from the office. With the class included it would mean a stretch from 7:00 am to 11:30 am with no chance to go to the restroom (and if you think that's no big deal, you've never tried it. Seriously. Make it a little experiment. Drink enough water to be able to talk for 4.5 hours straight and then try not to go to the bathroom. It's not pleasant, let me tell you.)
Yesterday was ok, 'cause someone came in during the first block to give me a bathroom break. I thought, foolish child that I am, that someone would come in to break me today as well. Therefore, I threw caution to the wind like the fabled grasshopper, and drank water like usual. First block came and went with no bathroom breaker appearing. "Surely," I thought, "Surely, they will send someone to give me a bathroom break." But, my wishes and dreams were crushed. NO one came. If only I'd planned ahead and drunk no water, in preparation for this horrendous possibility. Alas, no. I had not. I don't know if you've ever had to hold your pee for an extended period of time, but let me tell you all about it. You feel like you have a balloon inside your body that's getting bigger and bigger and more and more painful until you are pretty sure you'll explode in a shower of urine. I haven't spent a lot of time contemplating the last moments of my life, but that's certainly not the way I want to go out. It would be so embarrassing, not to mention stinky, and I don't want to be any trouble.
So, for about the 1,000,000,000,000,000,000th time since getting my job here at A-TECH I counted the blessing of teaching big ole nerd balls(she said with overwhelming tenderness), got the class going, and ran to the bathroom. I don't know if you've ever seen the movie Where the Heart Is, but there's a scene where a VERY pregnant Natalie Portman finally gets the chance to use the bathroom and as she pees (sorry, but I just hate the word urinate in any form)screams out thanks to the Lord for creating toilets. That's kinda how I felt today. Had there not been a female student two stalls over, I would have shouted my thanks long and loud. So, the bladder's empty, but I held it so long that it still hurts. I think it wants me to remember this experience and never ever do it again. I wish I could tell it that I won't but. . . I'm a teacher, and that means that along with enlightening the minds of our youth and molding the leaders of the future, I have to hold my pee.
4 comments:
I hear ya, sister. I'm a nurse, which also means no regular potty breaks. I have this conversation in my head before I go to work, it sounds a lot like conversations my 4 year old and I have "Do you need to go potty?" "No." "Maybe you should check because it's going to be a long time before you get another chance."
I, too, have felt that pain...the pain of feeling your eyeballs swim, not in aqueous humor, but in bladder backwash. Love the pix of Elmo.
And there really is no way to make that phone call one that is not demoralizing and humiliating.
Grown adult with a college education and here you sit begging someone to let you use the restroom. "Hi this is Ms King, can you send someone down here so that I can go potty?"
By the way...I am 44oz of diet coke into my day and just about to pee my pants as we speak.
oh, the pain!
On a completely different note, curses to you for introducing me to Pioneer Woman! I've been glued to the site for the past 1.5 hours...no joke. I love it! I finally had to tear myself away NOW or I won't move from the couch today.
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