I remember, all too well, the end of school as a teacher. I remember that I had to try REALLY hard not to knock over kids on the last day of school as I made a break for the parking lot. I think I even remember actually growling at some poor Xerox repair-man when I rounded the corner into the copy room, probably to copy something that, Please, Lord, would keep my 21 squirmy-worms occupied for 7 minutes, only to see the copy machine's guts strewn hither and yon.
I confess that I HAD forgotten. I had forgotten the tension, the stress, all coming to a head. More than anything, I had forgotten that many teachers, probably myself included, believe themselves to have a license-to-be-grouchy from about May1-31. I forgot until this week, when I began trying to collect papers for work that I gave the teachers 3 weeks ago to complete. I have tried to pick them up earlier, but got no response, or "Oh! We'll get to that soon!" Now I'm getting, "It's the end of school!" "When did you give me those?" "I'm trying to pack my room!!"
I smile, nod sympathetically at how impossibly unreasonable I'm being, and scoot very quickly away. Maybe next time I should walk in throwing chocolate in front of me.
