where's the trap-door when you need it?

Yayyy! My sleep-deprived week has finally come to an end! And today was a totally good day. The kids were great (especially after I told them all how wonderful they were compared to the shit-heads in the classes I was subbing yesterday. Or just one class. But big enough shits to feel like I was stuck with them for hours on end. ahhhh. . . anyway, letting it go . . . ). All I had to do at the end of today was go for a quick meeting with another teacher, get my lesson plans more or less outlined for Tuesday, and pack up. The teacher-- or secretary, I wasn't sure which, as correspondence had been through the school email-- was going to help me figure out some stuff related to report cards. I just had to figure out who she was.

You see, after cramming the names of all 120 of my students into my head in the first week, my brain has had hardly any room left for names. This means that after 2 months in the staffroom, I have wonderful chummy repeat conversations now with half a dozen of my colleagues without having a clue what their names are or where they are located in the school. However, I was pretty sure this teacher was not a staffroom regular, as the name wasn't ringing any bells. There's an online list of photos with names that I could have looked up, but it still wouldn't tell me where anyone was in the school. So I decided to zip over to the my neighbour's room, explain my dilemma, and ask for directions.

My neighbour was thrilled to help. Rather than giving directions, she decided to escort me personally and introduce me to this must-know staff member in the office (okay, secretary or counsellor then, not a teacher, which would explain why she was probably busy during lunch). And introduce me she did, with much ado, nosiren-wanted-to-meet-you's, wasn't-sure-who-you-were's, etc, to . . . the vice principal, who greeted me by name every day, and who had interviewed and hired me.

Like I said: Trapdoor? Please???