Hump Day? Uh-huh.

Today, God, Murphy, Fortuna, oh I dunno, pick your favorite "why does shit happen?" deity attempted to tell me to go the hell back to bed. Repeatedly. At high volume.

Message the first: Had headache when woke up. Painkillers didn't.

Message the second: The train broke. No, really. We sat outside Rutherford for over half an hour while they fixed the brakes -- eventually by disengaging them entirely. Leaving the 5-car train with only 4 cars of functional brakes. Which meant that the remained of the trip in proceeded at a snail's pace. End result? Getting to Hoboken at roughly the same time I'm normally holding my breath on the 6 train. I consider it a personal achievement that I was only half an hour late to work.

Message the third: Having to send a kid out of the room for the first time. Kid got A Talking To. (fast forward 1.5 hours, kid is back at it. Must improve capital-letter talks.)

Upside: Children at large are convinced of my evilness, as not only did I force-exit kid, but summarily doubled the class's homework assignment. (Made 'em complete the stuff they were supposed to do in class, and opted to blow off. I refuse to feel guilty -- they had two days to do the previously-existing homework due tomorrow, and they have until Monday to finish the homework they were supposed to have tonight.)

Message the fourth: All and sundry in the faculty lounge telling me "what a wonderful day it is in Central Park." Thanks. I was planning to spend my lunch break there, but now I'm stuck in here doing those things which I did not do this morning. (See message the second.) Rub. It. In.

Message the fifth: Crying child in my class after lunch. Given this is child with tough-guy image... Hoo-boy. Have no idea what set it off. Have pretty damn good idea who set it off, however. 'Who' got A Talking To as well, and Who may wind up getting more than that before dismissal.

Which is in 3 minutes.

Thank. God.

Hump Day? Uh-huh.

Today, God, Murphy, Fortuna, oh I dunno, pick your favorite "why does shit happen?" deity attempted to tell me to go the hell back to bed. Repeatedly. At high volume.

Message the first: Had headache when woke up. Painkillers didn't.

Message the second: The train broke. No, really. We sat outside Rutherford for over half an hour while they fixed the brakes -- eventually by disengaging them entirely. Leaving the 5-car train with only 4 cars of functional brakes. Which meant that the remained of the trip in proceeded at a snail's pace. End result? Getting to Hoboken at roughly the same time I'm normally holding my breath on the 6 train. I consider it a personal achievement that I was only half an hour late to work.

Message the third: Having to send a kid out of the room for the first time. Kid got A Talking To. (fast forward 1.5 hours, kid is back at it. Must improve capital-letter talks.)

Upside: Children at large are convinced of my evilness, as not only did I force-exit kid, but summarily doubled the class's homework assignment. (Made 'em complete the stuff they were supposed to do in class, and opted to blow off. I refuse to feel guilty -- they had two days to do the previously-existing homework due tomorrow, and they have until Monday to finish the homework they were supposed to have tonight.)

Message the fourth: All and sundry in the faculty lounge telling me "what a wonderful day it is in Central Park." Thanks. I was planning to spend my lunch break there, but now I'm stuck in here doing those things which I did not do this morning. (See message the second.) Rub. It. In.

Message the fifth: Crying child in my class after lunch. Given this is child with tough-guy image... Hoo-boy. Have no idea what set it off. Have pretty damn good idea who set it off, however. 'Who' got A Talking To as well, and Who may wind up getting more than that before dismissal.

Which is in 3 minutes.

Thank. God.