No, I'm Not Dead. I Got A Promotion!

Hello friends! I'm back, if only for a short stay. Come on...you know you missed me. I've missed you. Yes, I have!

Things have been hopping here in Mayberry. At the close of last summer, I was moved to the local Mayberry High. I spent most of the year there until...I got a promotion. I'm now the head bitch at the nuthouse that is a junior high school. And I love it! I taught this age most of my career. Please, don't be concerned. I'm fully certified and even slightly qualified enough for the position. It's been quite hectic, as the promotion came in March due to some mysterious happenings that saw the exit of the last head bitch in a demotion. She was my friend until now. I know it's not personal, but it sure feels that way. It wasn't like I was plotting against her. I had no idea. She snubs me now though. Sad but true. So I should be deliriously happy, no? Well, I am excited. I mean, I didn't just show up and get the job...I earned it. But here are some highlights:

1. The place is teeming with full on idiot sacs. The one bright spot is that a good chunk of them have been given their walking papers. Yes Margaret, God is here, and He is listening.

2. No one can seem to solve even the tiniest, most minuscule fucking problem. Someone is constantly coming to my office with questions like, "There's no toilet paper in the ladies bathroom! Whatever shall we do?" Are you serious? Go get a roll for the shitter and leave me to my very important work, bitches!

3. Although I tend to rant a bit (!) here, I'm generally a happy and positive human being. This is not the case with many of the staff. Not only do they bitch and moan about no toilet paper in the shitter, they seem to think that college degrees are just given to blondes, and I evidently can't tell when some shady jackass is trying to pull one over on me. Attention: I am pretty damn smart. You do not fool me. You cannot bullshit a bullshitter. That is all.

4. The sheriff and his minions are seriously fucking micromanaging me. Witness an email I received recently after sending out a simple informational email to my staff:

"Sassy,

In reading your email to staff of May 13th, I'm concerned that you did not elaborate enough about the concerns we notified you of. Please see the attached to send to your staff. Ensure that you copy and paste into your email. Thank you!"

How about telling me that you are monitoring MY email to MY staff on MY campus that YOU chose to make ME the principal of? Now writing an email is like writing my master's thesis since I write and rewrite it 3o times because I know you bitches are watching. Thanks for that.

5. There are 3 minions that never seem to communicate and end up telling me 3 different things. This means at any given moment, I can be shit out of luck 3 different ways. With this kind of misinformation, I feel as if I'm working for the government...without all the days off.

6. If I get one more call from someone, parent or other, that wants to bitch about what happened before I ever came to the campus, I might slit my wrists. Listen up, people. I WAS NOT HERE. I CANNOT JUMP INTO A TIME MACHINE AND FIX ALL THE SHIT YOU FELT WAS WRONG BEFORE I CAME HERE. There is a week of school left. Cry yourself a river, build yourself a bridge, and get the fuck over it already. Your kid is not going to Harvard. Or Yale. Well, maybe community college...

7. A tip for anyone out there working with teenagers: They are teenagers. They thrive on drama. They will say mean and ugly things to you and everyone else. Get some self-esteem and stop fucking taking everything personal. Aren't you the adult? Here's a suggestion: ACT LIKE IT. And if I hear you be shitty to one more kid, I'm really gonna have to choke the life out of you. I cannot stand a bully. Or an idiot. Or you. Capiche?

8. This is the 3rd time I will get screwed at tax time because rather than spread my additional pay for the past 8 weeks out, you are giving it to me in a lump sum causing me to have to pay Uncle Sam at the end of the next tax year. I might as well just put it in savings to take care of the fucking tax burden you've bestowed upon me yet again. Thanks for the raise.

9. I have had to visit confession quite frequently for the above, and well also because there is some hot little 24 yr old coach that I want to crawl all over. Seriously impure thoughts about my subordinate. Rawhr! Luckily I have unparalleled self-control, or I might end up on television for sexual harassment.

10. I often imagine that I fashion a shiv out of a pencil and shank some of my employees. Of course, it's just annoyance at the pettiness and stupidity of a handful of dumbasses. I'm a lover, not a fighter. Besides, I fashioned a voodoo doll out of paper and use it to wreak havoc on them. No need going to jail over a case of the dumbass.

Seriously, I'm happy to have gotten the promotion. It's a big deal and what I have been working towards in my career. I just thought it would be under much better circumstances. Truthfully, it's all been a bit overwhelming, particularly since all eyes at the Head Shed are watching me....closely....so close I can smell what they had for lunch on any given day. They are truly trying to support me but smothering me is more like it. I keep thinking next year will be better. It has to. I don't like having to see Father Glen so often. He still has no fucking sense of humor. Shit! I just insulted my priest...again.

Bless me, Father, for I have sinned....