It appears that Tuesdays and I don't get along. For the past two Tuesdays I have managed to do something completely ridiculous at work, putting any credibility I had in the bin along with the kids' pictures of dragons. It is for this reason that I have set myself a challenge: to go an entire week without doing something straight out of the script of a bad sitcom.
Last Tuesday I was feeling a little under the weather after a big weekend. I had attended a barbecue with a friend which somehow turned into me dragging myself home from the pub around 5am. As a result I could feel that I was getting a cold so I decided to take some cold and flu tablets to ease my sinus pain. Not long after I had taken the tablets I was overcome with a sense wooziness, bringing me to the horrible realisation that I had taken the nighttime tablets instead of the daytime ones. I could feel myself swaying gently in the classroom like a bear shot with a tranquilliser gun and the children's confused and concern filled eyes fixed on me. However, when they asked, 'are you ok Miss?' I was unsure whether it was appropriate to explain that I had accidentally drugged myself.
I managed to make it to lunch time where I hauled myself to the staff room to rest my befuddled head. Before I knew it I was fast asleep, only to be woken by a hand gently shaking me to make sure I was ok. It wasn't enough to make me open my heavy eyes though, so I lay there, semi comatose and listening to other staff members suggest that they draw on my face. Eventually, I began to drift off again only to be woken by another soft shake. Assuming it was my friend I gently opened my eyes to discover it was the teacher I assist telling me, "you have five minutes to sort yourself out then it's back to class!" Oops.
My instance today was a little less dramatic. I was photocopying the children's homework for the week but unfortunately the staples in the copier ran out. I was manually stapling the sheets together when suddenly I felt a sharp pain in my middle and index finger. I looked down to see two tiny punctures spurting crimson all over the kids' worksheets and the responsible staples scattered on the desk. Trying to keep my cool, I grabbed a paper towel and attempted to continue stapling only to hear, "Miss you've got blood all over you...and my work." Apparently my paper towel wasn't doing the trick so I sulked off like a kid who had fallen in the playground to the first aid cupboard to find bandaids. Of course there were no small plasters for my dainty fingers, so I had to settle with the conspicuously large ones which prompted questions for the rest of the morning about my battle wounds.
Evidently I'm accident prone. This is probably the wrong type of person to be working with children, but luckily the only things hurt so far have been my fingers and my dignity. So over the following week I will endeavour to prove that I am in fact a fully functioning adult and get through next Tuesday conscious and unharmed.
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