Having a Crazy Day

So I got in early because I had to set up the laptop I brought from home for today's freshman library orientation because the tech department never brought over the laptop they promised me weeks ago, despite a reminder from me last week along with an offer to come and pick it up myself. Couldn't get the image to show on the projector, sent a desperate message for help, and then figured it out.

Take a breath.

I got in my mailbox a note from the secretary who started the whole whoo-hah on Friday afternoon about The Rolling Stone; it was a copy of the letter she sent the principal. After she explained in the note what happened, and apologized for just throwing the magazine out and not going through channels, she wrote:

"I would like to know if there is some censorship being practiced in this school. Perhaps the librarians are already doing this. I would appreciate your letting me know the policy in this regard."

I had to laugh at the idiocy of this, and the fact that she doesn't know what the word "censorship" even means, and then I armed myself. The SCM and I talked it over in preparation for my meeting with the principal. I gathered up other magazines -- Newsweek, Discover, and of course, National Geographic, which we joked would have to be her next target -- as well as a book of Michaelangelo's paintings. I taught my first orientation class and went to his office when I was done.

We had a bit of a crisis Friday afternoon, I told him. He smirked, said he had read her note, and said "She's not the censor of the school. What's next, National Geographic?" So I knew he was on our side, and in fact, he made several of my own arguments to me before I could make them to him. He was also amused by her use of the word censorship, and even agreed that there was nothing wrong with the RS cover anyway. So that was a huge relief. My old principal, the Psycho, might have ultimately supported me -- although she didn't once when another secretary, her Stooge, did the same thing -- but she would have tortured me first for as long as she could get away with it.

It's about 10.20 now as I type and I think I'm finally not shvitzing for the first time all day. I've been doing so much running around that I feel like I'm living at the center of a permanent hot flash. It's going up to 84 degrees today, and the humidity is high. WTF?

Later.

I'm home, and finally sitting still for about a minute. I had arranged for a mason to come and look at the front steps today at 3.45 -- it's 3.40 as I type -- and I was going to leave the faculty meeting early, but they canceled the faculty meeting because the v.p.'s mother died and they were giving us the time to go to the wake. I thought I'd go tonight, but I was able to rush home, change, and dash over there and back already. It's a very rush-rush kind of day. As soon as my bell rings and the guy gives me what I hope is a reasonable estimate, I'm off to a mall or two on a couple of ... ring!

Okay, change of plans. Not only did this guy give me a lower estimate than the original guy, he described a better process for doing it, is very professional, and is going to do it RIGHT NOW! No appointments, no nothing. I'm totally psyched, even thought this means I can't go now to get my watch battery or jeans (sadly, I am back in the bigger size) or anything else. Hey, maybe later. It's not like I have to make time to get to a wake tonight, having already done that.

Okay, breathe.

WATCHING DR PHIL :: ENTRY #1600