Night School--Part 1

After a 1:45 AM bedtime, I should not have been wide awake at 6:30 this morning--and that, after sleeping fitfully "all night." I seriously doubt that such a fate befell anyone else present at the night school held for fun at our school from 6:00 PM Friday to 1:00 AM Saturday, except maybe Mr. Schrock, who is also at least 25 years older than the students. Maybe it was the root beer floats, and tortilla pinwheels with salsa, and cookies, and apples with peanut butter dip, and the seasoned pretzels and oyster crackers, and Wheat Thins and cheese curl thingys, and summer sausage and cheese with Ritz crackers, and coffee cake, and thin corn tortilla "tubes" with chicken filling--at 10:30 PM (?). But it was definitely a memorable and happy "lunch hour."

I told the people next to me around the lunch table that Norma is teaching next year in my place. This news was greeted with great pleasure. "Awesome!" is the response I remember. Some of them have had her as a teacher before, in eighth grade.

When I arrived at school last night (I have late-arrival privileges since I'm a 90%-of-full-time teacher.), "Monday morning chapel" was already underway--outdoors, with everyone in chairs set up in a big circle. At the short first break immediately afterwards, the decibel level in the learning center was amazing, like a chicken house full of hens on steroids.

In Anabaptist History class we watched the second half of the film on Russian Mennonites near the beginning of the school day. The first part was the activity for the morning class. We didn't have time to discuss it much, but Zachary sat down immediately afterwards to write his response to the story, as I requested happen before we meet again next Tuesday, and Tim was so busy talking to me about it in my classroom that he forgot all about going to German class till it was well underway, and I forgot that I was supposed to be monitoring the learning center during that time. We should have picked up on the clue when Tim's cell phone alerted him to a call during our conversation. "Can I answer it?" he asked. "It's Ryan."

"No. You're not supposed to use cell phones during school."

So Tim quickly said "Bye" into the phone and put it back in his pocket. An emissary from the German class came looking for him, at which point I hurried to the learning center. "You should have seen the response when you got out here," someone informed me. I should have focused my eyes first on that section of sophomore boys' offices. I'll remember next time.