Garbage

I was awakened at one o'clock this morning to the sound of ice being crushed and shoveled outside my window. I was tired, confused, annoyed. All I wanted was to sleep, and even knowing that they were just doing their job, even feeling compassionate that they had such a job, that they were stuck outside shoveling snow at 1am, I was still angry. I still just wanted it all to stop.

As I left for work four hours later, I discovered my car was completely cocooned in ice, and of course my scraper was nowhere to be found. I spent twenty minutes standing out in the freezing rain, chipping away a thick layer of ice with the top of a water bottle. By the time I sat down behind the wheel, I was completely drenched from head to toe.

At WaWa, the woman standing next to me spilled her piping hot coffee all down my leg. Had I not been freezing, I might have minded more. She apologized profusely as I continued to tell her not to worry about it. These things happen, after all. Still, I pulled into the parking lot at work twenty minutes later than I would have liked, drowned in the extremes of temperature.

The parking lot was frozen. I skated carefully across it, holding my coffee at arms length to avoid further spillage, thinking to myself how it would only be funny to fall if someone were with me. Alone, it was simply sad and pathetic. Alone, I was just a klutz in a slippery parking lot.

I made it safely inside, feeling very proud of myself. At least most of my morning children would be late as well. At least I'd have some time to just sit and drink my coffee, read my book. Maybe all this bad weather was for the best. Maybe it would give me a bit of a break.

I unlocked the door, turned on the hallway lights, clocked in, opened the door to my room and felt the familiar splash of my boots against the floor. Flood. I put my stuff down and waddled through the pool to the light switch. It wasn't SO bad. We've certainly seen worse. Still, the hallway and a good portion of my classroom were underwater and I knew that I would not be getting any kind of a break.

I called my boss. She was great as always. I told her we'd be able to handle it, that I had faith in us. My best friend there showed up and together we attempted to soak up the water in any way we could think of. We stopped and looked at one another and asked "how is this our lives?" before breaking into hysterical laughter. We laughed for a good ten minutes before giving up on the water completely and returning to the endless barrage of phone calls from parents, wondering if we were open. With a heavy sigh we'd respond "yes, we're here."

Eventually things worked out and the day continued on. Still, beginning that way pulled all of the patience we had from me. Being stuck inside for the third day in a row with eighteen energized two year olds was driving us all a little crazy, and by the end of my shift, when Sadie climbed inside the trash bag filled with toys and looked over at me to tell me she felt like garbage, I couldn't help but laugh. I couldn't help but think, yes, me too dear friend. Me too.