Because having report cards go home, a full moon, excitement over the upcoming spring break and two days of snow and temps that unseasonably cold wasn't enough, I got observed today for the last time this school year.
As I pulled out of the garage and saw the full moon shining, I was rest assured of three things: death, taxes, and certainty we would be squirrely. (Anyone else feel like they can write a novel on the shenanigans that happen those unfortunate days we work and there's a full moon?)
On a good day, I don't like being observed. It has nothing to do with my principal, I just don't like it. Period. You know those people who have testing anxiety? I have observational anxiety.
For your entertainment, let me give you a rundown of how my day went:
It's pitch black and I awaken from a nightmare. About the observation today. One that involved my room being invaded by a SWAT team carrying body shields and wearing camo on their faces. (I think I may have seen an Army ad before I went to bed.) They came in through my window and the door between my room and my next door neighbor's.
Needless to say, it was unsettling.
Sit down at my desk. Begin to print report cards to find server is down. Realize I can't print my lesson plan. Pray for divine intervention.
After printing out my eight page lesson plan I can no longer find it. Reprint. All but staple it to my hand.
Principal walks in and the lesson begins. I am reviewing the letter K and we are identifying the /k/ sound at the beginning and end of words. Because we heard a story about sharks, we make shark fins to swim infront of our bodies when hear /k/ at the beginning. Everything is going swimmingly until I see Precious up front. Not content to move a fin infront, Precious begins to swim back and forth at the front of my rugs.
I realized mid-sentence I am out of sequence. I had meant to start by reading a book and now my lesson is all out of sequence. I sheepishly admit this to the principal who just laughs and says he couldn't tell. He was just enjoying the lesson.
Back on track. After Precious infoms me that they were a machine and in sleep mode. We take a movement break where one child proceeds to show the principal how skilled they are at galloping.
Principal leaves and I am no longer in super stress mode. I am able to form coherent thoughts again.
Laugh about the observation. Thank the Lord my principal is understanding.