Last week, I got attacked by a bunch of students that included a gangsta from my 1st period theater class, but I somehow convinced the one kid not to kill me. Then he ended up in the lunch room with me and a bunch of my good kids (and I avoid the lunchroom, so maybe this was a warning) and this blond terrorist came in (he was actually quite good looking, if he hadn’t had those scary “I am not human inside” eyes) and I ended up kneeling with a gun to my head, execution style. I woke up about then.

That not being enough, I had a second school dream the same night during which I felt about as desperate but when I woke up was a lot less frightening. So I get to school on the first day back, but there’s no teacher inservice or work days. No, first day back includes kiddos. I get there an hour or so earlier than they do to find that my classroom outside in the PAC is no longer my classroom, but I don’t know where my classroom has been moved to. So I go inside the building and I’m wandering up and down the hallways looking for a room without a teacher’s name on the door and seeing all my co-workers putting the final decorative touches on their rooms, and getting all ready for the kiddos. Finally I run into Teri, our Academic Dean (who will not be there next year), and I’m so embarrassed to tell her that I don’t know where my room is because there’s students already milling down the hallway. She points me the right way, and it turns out that I’m in one of the math teacher’s classrooms from last year, and the room is still full of her stuff. All the other teachers are greeting their new students as they walk in the door, and my classroom is filling up with kids while I’m frantically trying to erase last May’s math lessons off the board.

This does not bode well for pleasant summer sleeping.