My Name Is Crabby...Why Do You Ask?

This actually happened last week, but I've been tied up with my final term paper for school so I never got around to posting it. What's this about school, you say? ...that's a post for a different day.

***

I spent the morning fighting off hypothermia at the dentist's office. I'm all for copious air conditioning since I've been in permanent hot flash for a year now, but this was just nuts.

Originally, the appointment was for last week, but that didn't work out. It was Daughter's six month check up, and I made it for first thing in the morning so we could go straight to the dentist, then to school afterward. A time saver, because the dentist was in the opposite direction of the school, with our house in the middle – at least an hour round trip (yes, we live in the middle of nowhere. Like, Hundred Acre Wood. Pooh Bear and Eeyore are neighbors).

Simples, right?

Well, Daughter is taking honors classes this year, and one of the more difficult ones is taught by Headmaster. She didn't want to miss the first half of class, so I agreed to get her from school instead. It meant having to take three hours off work instead of two, but hey, I had to admire her commitment.

As a side note, Headmaster only teaches this one class, obviously, since he's got other Headmastery things to do. He's one of those teachers who tries to scare the kiddos in the first few days, just to make sure everyone's serious about the class. Most of the teachers wait a few weeks before going over the summer reading assignments, but Headmaster dove right in. First day, he had them up in front of the class summarizing the books, and hammering them with questions while fueling debate on plots and characters.

It worked, some kids dropped the class. I asked my daughter if she was planning to do the same – I had hoped not - and she said, “OH HELL NO. I'm taking this as a personal challenge....he's not scaring me off.”

Love that kid.

So I get to the school office and there's no Daughter waiting for me. Secretary tells me she's probably on her way down from class. Five minutes goes by, then ten. Secretary calls the classroom and says she's on her way. Daughter finally shows up at 9:20am, leaving me ten minutes to get to a dentist 30 miles away. I hate being late for a doctor appointment, so I'm forced to reschedule.

Daughter says Dumbledore wouldn't let her leave, and gave her a hard time about leaving his class unless somebody died. I'm fairly certain he meant this in a semi-joking, possibly sarcastic tone, but still. This meant I'd be an hour late for work. For no reason.

Just then Headmaster rounds the corner. I introduce myself and tell him I'm thrilled that he's giving the kids a raking over in class (they deserve to know what the real world is like, and not that everyone's a wiener....I mean, winner). After all, I'm paying a a buttload of money for you to prepare my kid so she can ace her SAT exams and get accepted to a kick-ass college. But while you're twatwaffling with the hatchling's gray matter, I just lost an hour of work. YOU just wasted an hour of my time.

But I never said that. I wanted to because I was crabby and had to get up early, but I was also pretty sure he didn't do it intentionally. He's usually a good guy, so I let it pass.

So that brings me to today, where we did it all over again, but this time I allotted more time for general dickery.

Although I wasn't prepared for the sub-arctic waiting area. Or the snot-cicles (of course I have another sinus infection. You need ask?).

The rest of the day was uneventful until the school buses starting running for the afternoon trip home. It was the first day of school for the public school kids (private school started a week earlier), and apparently the transportation authority boogered the whole schedule. They had first graders on the same buses as high-schoolers – you keep them separated for obvious, delinquent-oriented reasons – and the private school kids bus ride took three hours. THREE HOURS.

I'm not privy to the inner workings of the local school district, but I do know they've had a problem with the buses for at least ten years now. I've even discussed this face to face with the transportation director after a school bus broke down, proceeded to strand my then ten year old (with friends) at the wrong development, in single digit temperatures. Rip his face off? Yes, I wanted to.

They can't afford new buses, there's a driver shortage, and they need to make due with what they're got (but they just spent millions on a new school). Boo Hoo.

Oh, and while I've got a good rant going, let me tell ya the best part of my chitchat with the transportation head. Because I dared to actually show up in person, he assumed I was a stay at home mommy with nothing better to do than be an annoyance. When I informed him that I was a programmer for (company redacted) and telecommute from home, he immediately suggested I sign up for bus detail.

Seriously? Did you even hear what I said? I have a job.....a job that requires me to be at my desk online at particular hours of the day.

Douchnozzle.

That was a few years ago, and it still grates on me. Obviously.

So once again, we're doing the bus schedule version of musical chairs. Hopefully Daughter will pass her driving test soon, and maybe we can manage to get a cheap beater car for her to use. That way we don't have to deal with this bus nonsense anymore.

Gah, I never thought I'd be saying that.