Summer Break for the School Secretary
Alternately titled: Don't Poop At Work
Summer break is coming to a close, and I have already taken my seat at the helm of the Junior High front office desk. Most of my summer workday is paperwork, paperwork, moving boxes, paperwork and paperwork. Never does being overwhelmingly busy feel so completely boring, as when there are only a handful of people in the building.
Of course I'd rather be enjoying a margarita break from snorkeling on a shell-filled beach than trying to choke down a microwaved pizza next to a puking teenager, but I kinda sorta miss the rituals of the school day. I miss the chaotic hours that seem to go by in 2 minutes. I miss trying to answer the phone, buzz the door, print a schedule and call a classroom all in the same 20 seconds, because that is actually a pretty funny production. I miss the nice kids who wave and say hi when they pass they office, and I miss the angry kids who sit in the office and complain about the unfairness of school and life and teachers who make them do work. I miss the laughter and the excitement, and even the yelling in the halls.
I look forward to a lot of things about the school year, and I would love to have three months off like the kids, but there's one thing about working in the summer I truly enjoy. In summer, I don't have to share the work toilet with anyone else. It's the one time of year when I can pee without wiping down the seat before I sit. It's the only time I don't have to knock and hope I knocked loud enough. I can breathe without pulling my shirt collar over my mouth. No poo-hazy sauna air. No wet legs when I stand back up. It's a glorious time for my bladder.
As we begin a new school year, I ask friends, coworkers and visitors to please, for the love, be kind to your digestive system. If you work in a place where you share one toilet with more than three people, leave the extra wet hot wings for the weekend. Remember to lock the door, and feel welcome to open the window. Don't save your poops for work to keep your water bill down. If you have an emergency, try really hard to smack your butt to the seat before that chili bomb detonates. No more accidental mystery mud baths, please. I beg of you, (ahem... Mr. Superstore Delivery Guy who seems really nice but had a super long van drive to get to our building) try out a rest stop on your way here. Don't leave a 4D horror scene of bloated buffalo carcass in our bathroom.
It doesn't matter how many doors your hold or what kind of donation you've made to the PTO. No one will remember the time you saved a puppy from traffic or when you gave Mrs. Favorite Teacher CPR, if you painted the toilet while you were there.
Summer break is coming to a close, and I have already taken my seat at the helm of the Junior High front office desk. Most of my summer workday is paperwork, paperwork, moving boxes, paperwork and paperwork. Never does being overwhelmingly busy feel so completely boring, as when there are only a handful of people in the building.
Of course I'd rather be enjoying a margarita break from snorkeling on a shell-filled beach than trying to choke down a microwaved pizza next to a puking teenager, but I kinda sorta miss the rituals of the school day. I miss the chaotic hours that seem to go by in 2 minutes. I miss trying to answer the phone, buzz the door, print a schedule and call a classroom all in the same 20 seconds, because that is actually a pretty funny production. I miss the nice kids who wave and say hi when they pass they office, and I miss the angry kids who sit in the office and complain about the unfairness of school and life and teachers who make them do work. I miss the laughter and the excitement, and even the yelling in the halls.
I look forward to a lot of things about the school year, and I would love to have three months off like the kids, but there's one thing about working in the summer I truly enjoy. In summer, I don't have to share the work toilet with anyone else. It's the one time of year when I can pee without wiping down the seat before I sit. It's the only time I don't have to knock and hope I knocked loud enough. I can breathe without pulling my shirt collar over my mouth. No poo-hazy sauna air. No wet legs when I stand back up. It's a glorious time for my bladder.
As we begin a new school year, I ask friends, coworkers and visitors to please, for the love, be kind to your digestive system. If you work in a place where you share one toilet with more than three people, leave the extra wet hot wings for the weekend. Remember to lock the door, and feel welcome to open the window. Don't save your poops for work to keep your water bill down. If you have an emergency, try really hard to smack your butt to the seat before that chili bomb detonates. No more accidental mystery mud baths, please. I beg of you, (ahem... Mr. Superstore Delivery Guy who seems really nice but had a super long van drive to get to our building) try out a rest stop on your way here. Don't leave a 4D horror scene of bloated buffalo carcass in our bathroom.
It doesn't matter how many doors your hold or what kind of donation you've made to the PTO. No one will remember the time you saved a puppy from traffic or when you gave Mrs. Favorite Teacher CPR, if you painted the toilet while you were there.
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