Please let the Teacher Relax

Dear Young, Giggly Women in Palm Springs near the Hotel Pool,

It scares me a bit that you’re teachers.  I only know your profession because of your seeming lack of volume control.  No offense: you may be wonderfully gifted with kids—it's obvious that all three of you are loud enough for any child to hear from clear across any playground.  Yet something about, perhaps, your carefree laughter and grand interest in the Kardashian wedding does concern me some.  It makes me, in these last glorious days before the stressful schoolyear begins, nervous.  I was hoping to enter a sort of Zen State prior to having to enter the Realization Zone that I will soon be responsible for the education of 30ish kids.  Hence, the hotel stay.  But, alas, even here, you prevent me from experiencing any sort of blissful denial. 

You planted yourself right near me.  It’s crowded, so I don’t take it personally.  But, I long for you to, at minimum, and for the love of GOD, change the subject.  Being the professional that I am, I will refrain from screaming what others might: namely, shut the F up. 

I’m frustrated because in the last ten minutes, you have succeeded in dropping a plethora of LAUSD acronyms.  There’s nothing I can do to avoid you—there's no other available beach chair.  I suppose plugging my ears is rude.  But, really, I’d rather you name drop instead of acronym drop.  So far, one or the other of you has uttered letters including, but not limited to, ELD, CELDT, ELL, IWT, IEP, ELA, TPS, and ABCDEFG.  Here’s some letters for you: UGH!

(not me)

I’m not sure why I fear we share the same occupation.  Maybe it’s because you’re so bubbly and loud? And young?  Maybe it’s because you watch the Kardashians.

In my very serious professional environment (did I mention my school scored 826, and potentially higher, on our API?), my colleagues and I don’t’ go home and read up on the goings-on of Untalented Rich People, like Khloe Kardashian.  Instead, we go home and review such things as Marilyn Burns books, the California Dance Standards, and our ELSIG treasury.   Funny how you left out that acronym—maybe the most important one of all. 

Additionally, the teachers at my school don’t partake in such trash on television of which you refer.  Please.  We’re much too evolved.  Instead, we bask in the glory of such highly acclaimed and esteemed shows as, oh, The Bachelor, The Bachelorette, Biggest Loser, Dancing with the Stars, and (my favorite) various shows on addiction (the best is watching meth addicts. Not sure why). 

So, you see, Young, Giggly Women in Palm Springs near the Hotel Pool, maybe it would behoove you to ZIP it.  Maybe you should just suck it up and take in some rays.  Throw on some earplugs and listen to ELD chants.  Think-Pair-Share with each other about where to go for dinner.  Whatever you do, leave me out of it.  You’re irritating. 

In thinking about it, though, there is, I suppose, the slightest possibility, that maybe, just maybe, you drive me crazy because each of you sound vastly more ready for the school year than I am.

What channel is that dumb show on anyway?  Where was the wedding?

Signed,

Anxiously-Soon-to-be-back-to-the-Grind