beulahbondo's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Frizeyed I'm trying to keep my head up, literally, having just got to job #2 after teaching four art classes. The worst of the fifth graders were rude and mean and obnoxious (bragging about which version of AOL they had), and the worst of the kindergartners were out of control fighting and weeping and tugging and tearing at each other. And while those accounted for only four of the 40 I had today, I'm dead tired. I just get sick of all that yelling: "I NEED MORE BLUE!" "I NEED MORE TAPE!!!" But then when you remind them, of course, they're better: "MS BONDI CAN I PLEASE HAVE MORE TAPE???" but still yelling. Then I walk here through Downtown Crossing, where if a person isn't jingling coins in a cup or ringing a Salvation Army bell they're yelling and howling into a cell phone or gunning a motorcycle. I wonder how many times today I said, "That's beautiful. Did you put your name on it?" Or "Raise your hand if you can hear me." 2:17 p.m. - 2002-11-21 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||