Yes, I DID go to school on Monday. We were very blessed to be unexpectedly spared from Hurricane Ike at the last minute. But ironically, my day was only slightly less catastrophic than being on the dirty side of a cat 2 storm.
I haven’t posted all week because I couldn’t figure out how to explain what happened. I still can’t, and before my neglected blog lapses into obscurity, I might as well just come out with the short version of the story. So here goes: Someone went into my classroom, found my purse in a cabinet, and stole my wallet and keys. That person then used my keys to drive away in my car. Yes, in broad daylight, with 1,000 bodies roaming around campus. Or perhaps that was the whole problem.
Should I share more details while the case is still under investigation? I’m thinking not. Let’s let our little car thief be blindsided by his or her arrest, shall we? My vehicle, fortunately, has been recovered and is in good condition. Remarkably similar to the way I left it on Monday morning in the parking lot, minus an unreasonable amount of crap I kept in the glove box, back seat pockets, and let’s be honest, strewn about the car. Ah, my beloved CD collection, which has undoubtedly found its way to a trash can unless the thief is jamming out to praise and worship music.
I’m still processing everything that’s happened. Our music teacher fanatically reads my blog (having no life of his own, he is freed up to tease me mercilessly about the personal details I write about mine). He has been anticipating this particular posting: “You HAVE to post about this. Things will never be the same for you after this.” I will give him not only the satisfaction of being mentioned in my blog, but also the satisfaction of being right. My experiences are indeed now divided in half: my Teaching Life Prior to Being Violated, and my Teaching Life After Being Violated.
I don’t know what my TLABV will be like. I could spend my time thinking about who could have done this. Was it a two-faced staff member? A sneaky student? A devious parent? A homeless person? A space alien who zapped my wallet up into its craft with a beam of white light? I stopped with the paranoia after Monday night. I spend my time at work making sure the kids have proved their answers in the reading passages and regrouped the tens place in the subtraction problems and picked those scraps of paper off the floor (I didn’t mean literally throw it away, I meant drop it gently in the trash can). I then spend my time at home monitoring my credit report and reapplying for library and movie rental cards. (Thank goodness Starbucks allows you to transfer your rewards to a new account when the old one is stolen–the thought of forfeiting my iced caramel machiatto credits was heartbreaking.)
In other words, I’m moving on. The whole point of getting up and going to work last Monday morning was to be happy that life as I knew it had not ended because of an unpredictable tragedy that I was powerless to prevent. Wasn’t I supposed to be relieved that I had dodged a bullet? As it turns out, there was another bullet coming right behind that one. This is how life works. The irony is not lost on me, and neither is the lesson on awareness, consciousness, and gratitude.
That’s about all the profundity I can manage at this point. Keep this situation in your thoughts and prayers. And keep your classroom doors locked. I didn’t think it would happen in MY school, either.
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