After yesterday's rant (sorry about that), I decided I would go into work and calmly explain how I would rather supply teachers took the class until behaviour issues could be resolved, as I did not want to be the one held responsible for children getting hurt by flying chairs, etc., etc. Well, I got as far as, 'Is it too late to get a supply in...' and then I burst into tears. Embarrassed is not the word. Why can I never get angry, or admit defeat without making a total arse of myself? I retreated to the staff room to make myself an industrial-strength coffee, and someone asked me if I was all right. Not a wise move. Half a box of tissues later, I made it into the classroom (too early for the children, thank goodness), where the teacher thought better of commenting on the state I was in, and admired my trousers instead. So I was fine. Until Ms Fab saw me, dragged me into a side room and was nice to me. And then Mr Chaos came in to ask if I was okay, before hastily backing out of the room. (By the way, what were you drinking? That was one strange-looking cup of tea you were holding...).
I must remind the caretaker to order
more tissues...
Things got sorted today, anyway - not in a pleasing way, but not everything has a happy ending for everyone. My faith in the way things run has kind of been nudged back in the right direction, but I feel sad for those involved in the dramas that angry and confrontational people cause. I know this post probably doesn't make a lot of sense, but I can't go into details, and I don't have enough tissues, anyway.
I know I work with the best people anywhere, but they really must learn never to be nice to me when I have mascara running down my face...
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