Friday

There are 12 days left of the semester. And last week I had two brand new students show up. No warning. No clues as to who they are or where they are from.

Never mind that we are just about to wrap up To Kill a Mockingbird. So what do I do with them? It’s not like I can have them read the novel, which we just spent the last four weeks or so on.

Now, I know they likely just showed up in the counseling office as abruptly as they showed up in my class.

But it would be nice to get some notice and info.

I could go down there and get to the bottom of it myself. But then when do I have time with finishing this novel, grading several essays on TKM, grading a comparison essay in College Comp, researching for my College Comp’s final 8-12 page research paper, and, oh yeah, prepping for next semester’s classes.

I don’t have the time.

I also know that the counselors have every right to expect me to come down and get the info. However, it never used to work that way. We used to get slips from students that we could either accept and sign or reject and turn the students away. We used to at least get a little warning.

What has changed?

I know the counselors too are just as busy as I am.

I just wish we could find someone to help ease the transition for these kids.

****

I’m an idiot. I have never disputed this fact.

Case in point: I made it to school, late as usual, and saw a message on my phone.

“Just wondering where you put the keys. They aren’t in my purse or in the Blazer,” Kristie said, obviously not happy since I was the last to use the Blazer when I picked KoKo up from basketball practice.

So I spent the morning trying to think of where I could have possibly left those damn keys.

And I came up with nothing.

The sad thing is this happens ALL the time.
The day before I was scouring the house for my cell phone. The day before that my checkbook.

I should take a class in organization and concete-sequentialness.

Luckily, the keys were located. After school, and after searching both vehicles and every drawer I could find, I dug through one of my coat pockets (a coat I was sure I never wore when I went to pick KoKo up). Sure enough, there they were.

I tried to smuggle them into an obvious place so it would look like we ALL had missed them, but I got caught.

Now, I just need to find where I placed Kristie’s Wicked book. It's not on the shelf anymore. Nor is it in any of our book cases. It's not in any of the bathrooms or our bedroom. I never even read it. I just remember recommending it to Tricia's daughter, Ashley, when they were over on New Year's Day.

Maybe I should check my coat again.