The first day of school

Yesterday I survived my 8th first day of school. After the first day is over, I always feel so much better. 

I'm a creature of habit - I like to eat the same foods, watch movies I've already watched, go to places I've already been, because I know I'll like them. So I hate the chaos of the first day. It's horrible. I crave routines, and can't wait until a few weeks down the road when we are in them.

Last year, my whole class thought that Ryan Gosling was the sub that was ready to take over at a moment's notice, because my friend Kristin printed out a "Hey Girl, I'd love to watch your class while you use the restroom" and taped it to my desk. I tried really hard to find it, but you'll just have to imagine using the image above. She had the same one up in her room, and a kid thought it said "Hey Girl, I'd love to watch you use the restroom", which ended up being a whole different discussion.

This is funny to me because we have to write essential questions this year.

While my colleagues claimed to be tired during the school day, I never had that problem. I took a tylenol pm at 7:30 Sunday night, was asleep by 8:30 pm, and since I wasn't running Monday morning, slept until nearly 7 am. Of course, all that extra time in bed meant that I ran out of time to eat breakfast, but that was a separate issue. Don't worry, I made up for it when I got home by eating a gigantic dinner.

I was wisely advised not to wear flip flops until my Achilles is better, since they have no support for your feet, and aren't really going to help any sort of injury. So I thought I was being all smart wearing black pants and flats, even though I usually only wear dresses until my classroom temperature gets under 90 degrees, which usually isn't until at least October.

Well, obviously I hadn't worn anything other than flip flops or running shoes since probably April, and my feet weren't used to these weird prisons I inflicted on them. Before the kids even arrived, my heels were bleeding.

Naturally there was only one solution (not bandaids, I was sweating too much for them to stay on), and I looked super professional when my boss came in and the kids were going wild trying to organize their supplies and I was walking around barefoot. Amazing.

I really need to get back to Glee.

My strict schedule of 10+ hours of sleep, icing, and ice cream seems to be helping, because my Achilles is feeling back to normal when I walk around, and even when I probe it with the golf ball. Just when I was getting used to this schedule of laziness, too. 

Let's all vote: how many more days off running do I need? Because I was just kidding, I really can't freaking wait to run. 

Has your boss ever caught you doing something totally unprofessional? I forgot to mention, after I dismissed the kids I took my shoes off again, and was walking down the hall with them in my hands, and a parent came up to introduce himself to me. This is my level of pain tolerance, and this is how I already know I'll be getting an epidural.