Making Like an Actor and Whining

I hate that I come home and my work isn't over. Even on days when I leave at a reasonable hour I arrive at home exhausted with more work to do. Most of the time I fall asleep in the recliner and get absolutely nothing accomplished. The absolute most stressful time of the year is right around the corner. I dread tomorrow. I once again have to start babysitting teenagers, making sure they don't destroy something, or rip my curtains, or jump off the stage and hurt themselves. I hate that I spend hours sitting around waiting for their rides to show up because they weren't responsible enough to arrange a pickup time with whomever gives them rides.

There's also the tech dilemma. I have no students who I really trust with power tools. One of them is outright afraid of the saw, which is not a healthy attitude if he intends to build something. I need to find a parent or teacher who wants to help out, because at this point I can't supervise the construction of anything, despite the fact that I would much rather be in there than on the stage with the whining actors (I'm beginning to think the definition of actor is one who whines persistently).

I have this small group of students who like to hang out after school under the auspices of doing tech, but in reality they sit around not doing much of anything, even when I actually have things for them to do. I want to tell them not to come, but I feel sorry for them because I know their home lives are not the best. At the same time, I don't want to be there until 6:30 waiting for some kind of ride to come for them. The last couple of day I've just kicked them out and gone home (there are other people on campus, so I don't feel too bad about it). I have on several occasions informed them that they really shouldn't be on campus unless they need to be there for a specific reason, yet every day at the same time they come bursting through my door with far too much exuberance for my tired senses to handle.

On top of all of my show worries, I still have to teach. I have a vague idea of what I should teach, but how to teach it is a completely different story. I'm tired of yelling over them, especially the freshmen who have to hear instructions a thousand times before comprehending a modicum of what I've just said. Maybe it's because I use words like modicum and correct them when they say, 'supposably' (but Miss, that's the right word). By the end of each day at the 9th Grade Center I want nothing more than to crawl into a little corner and cry. Yes, it's that bad.