This week, I keep sitting down to write something, but my brain has farted. I cannot recover it.
My sophomores have zapped my brain cells with their ridiculous shenanigans this week.
I create a step-by-step outline for them that tells them what to write in every.single.spot, and they say, "I didn't know what to do" after it was due. Why am I not allowed to use a Nerf or water gun to pelt or spray some sense into them? WHY? Today, one student asked what to do for an assignment that I explained three times and had directions projected on the screen. (I pride myself on being really good at giving directions, but what good are directions if the person following them does not open his or her ears?) Luckily, another student responded, very sarcastically, first: "Oh, I don't know. The directions aren't on the screen or anything." Thank you, other teenagers, for saying what would have included an expletive if it came from my mouth.
I love my job, but they are trying the hell out of my patience this week.
Blazer: LOFT (similar)
Sweater: The Limited (another sparkle sweater)
Pants: Exact Stretch via The Limited (similar)
Shoes: Nine West via Marshall's (similar)
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