I have been covering the school office quite a bit over the past month because they've been down a person and Covid means everything that was simple is now much less so. It's very different from working in the library, especially right now when I don't have classes coming in. I really like having the human contact, getting to know more of the students, problem-solving and the fast pace. I also find it utterly draining. Yesterday was almost comically crazy - the office administrator was out sick so it was just two of us dealing with everything - parents coming to pick up their kids, parents calling because they couldn't access their kids' report cards, four bumped heads, one bleeding mouth and one bleeding nose of mythical proportions, and no fewer than eight stomach complaints - which under Covid means the student has to go into an isolation room, any siblings have to be pulled out of class, and they all have to be picked up and can't come back until after a ne
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I'm as susceptible to Christmas blues as anyone. I agree that expectations get out of hand, the stress level can be just stupid, and I often stop and wonder WHY am I doing this again? And yet, I composed a blog post in my head entitled "Bah Humbitch" upon reading a Leah McLaren column that told everyone not to send her Christmas cards, especially with stupid pictures of their children wearing Santa suits or antlers. And I left my first negative comment at a blog I generally really like today (not a 'you suck and you're stupid and I hate you' comment, just a 'this is a little unfair and I'm a little put out' comment -- I know, it must have really stung, in amongst all the comments telling her how fantastic and wise and one hundred and forty percent correct she is). And for the life of me, I can't really figure out why. photo credit creative commons license Okay, maybe I can, in the case of the Leah McLaren piece (it's called 'I'