I'm swearing off the "Story Corps" stories, even though I love them. I ended up in tears again as I drove in to work today, the same way I remember starting off one other Friday this school year. This time I was listening to a gruff man from NY eulogize his fiancé, who was a secretary on the 101st floor... then a wife talk to and about a husband who made it. Their voices were so full of soft love and good humor... so, of course, I cried again.
Strange juxtapositions: The next NPR story was with someone whose name I forget (Randy something) who wrote a song about a Louisiana town that went through a flood in 1927... they played the song softly in the background, and, yes, I'm sure you guessed it -- I cried again.
7th hour, I went into the principal's office and reported on the day's shenanigans, which left him laughing and nodding his head, and gave me a dose of COLD AIR... then back to the sweat box that is my classroom, several noticeable degrees warmer than the hall or other teacher's nearby classrooms.
All afternoon, kids walked in and said, "Hace calor" or "It's hot in here" or "How do you say It's hot in here? in Spanish?"
I'd just say, "Yup" or "Hace MUCHíCIMO calor" whichever was appropriate. After school, my two foot deep pile of stuff to sort/grade/record/edit, a red pen, a blue pen, and I hibernated in the secretary's office with the AC still up and running until I chilled out. Now I'm back, posting grades and stream of consciousness stuff... Buckling down for a LONG night preceding a free weekend.