School starts back in one week and I am jittery. Nervous. Twitchy and antsy.
But it's not because of the students who will walk in the classroom already taller than me. Nor is it because of the inevitable fights I'll have to break up (again, with students towering a head over mine).
I'm not even worried about the moms who will come up to the school and tell me it's my job to handle the discipline of their child, and "I don't care if she flipped somebody off. They probably deserved it." (Yeah, that really happened, but I'll elaborate in another post.)
No, I'm worried to death about my bladder. After a school year of holding it all day or calling for assistance in room 302 so I can run down to the teacher's lounge at breakneck speed and then wait for the one women's restroom to be unoccupied, my bladder was more excited about the summer than I was. It's motto was "free to be me and pee." Our relationship blossomed over the break, because anytime said bladder sent the signal that it needed a little attention, I always responded within 30 seconds.
This summer I was free at all times to drop what I was doing, announce "Excuse me, I'm going to the restroom" like I was Mr. Roarke on Fantasy Island, and take care of business. It was thrilling at first, but then I think my bladder became a little too demanding in the relationship.
For the past month here's what's been happening. I'm sitting at the computer, or having a cocktail with friends and like hummingbird to nectar WHAM! I have to go RIGHT THEN. Sometimes I wait until an appropriate lull in the conversation or a commercial break, but as soon as I stand up I am walking like my knees are connected, pigeon-toed and holding my breath to the ladies room. I'm sorry bladder, I'm not trying to make you wait but give a girl a little time!
Like right now, I am writing this and my leg is bouncing up as if I'm playing horsey with an imaginary toddler. No matter that this may be an award-winning post, or I might give other teachers some common ground on which to stand so they don't feel alone. No, Mr. B has no mercy. As soon as I stand from this chair, my family best clear a path because I will knock down any obstacles between here and the restroom.
But I'm writing this for you, fellow teachers; what are we to do? Come a week from now, I may amidst a riveting lesson about prefixes and suffixes. I am really concerned that just as I get to the meaning of "dis-", my bladder signals "ALERT ALERT!" and all the assistants are in the other hallway (probably relieving all the other teachers with this back-to-school condition).
I am apologizing now to my school and other students, who I constantly remind ALL DAY LONG not to run in the hallway. If Mr. B calls, I will be running in the hallway.
I will most likely leave my students in the classroom to avoid embarrassment.
I will do the unthinkable and use the student restroom if the single-stall teacher's lounge ladies room is occupied/occupado.
If an assistant does not come, I may yell "EMERGENCY IN ROOM 302!" on the walkie talkie.
I will enroll in bladder therapy to work out our most-certainly strained relationship.
I may have to meet with my teacher team to devise a tag-team-pee system. (Seriously not kidding about this one.)
I will not, however, purchase Depends. Sorry Mr. B, I am always in control of my students, and I will certainly be in control of you.
Remember friends, to achieve it you have to believe it.