Went to breakfast with a retired teacher who, although he is several years my junior, left the teaching profession six months before me. He must have hated the fuckers even more than I did!
When retired teachers talk about "the fuckers," they're not talking about students. For the most part, they're not talking about their colleagues either.
No, they'd be talking about admin.
Ask any retired teacher you meet, and 99% will verify this. The other 1% are still hoping they'll be called back in.
My personal nemesis for the last ten years of my career was Floocy (not her real name.) She didn't bring the most horsepower to the admin pool, but by sheer ass-kissing, mendacity, and determination, she eventually found herself in a principalship.
That was about ten years ago. Then, a day after I hand in my retirement notice, she announces her retirement!
The bitch! I woulda stayed another five years if I'd known she was outta there!
Anyway, what's done is done.
We had a break from the rains today, and the side-yard got done too. I've broke down the grass-cutting deal into three separate units (known as "chunking" in edu-jargon), and the side yard takes about a tank of gas and an hour of my time. I used to do the whole thing all at once, but now that I'm retired, I try to pace myself.
That gave me time for a quick shower before my visit to Doctor Bob's Dental Emporium for an hour with one of his hygienists. I probably don't need to have another shower till around the end of August, now that I think about it. Must be saving a bundle on hot water!
After the stress of the dentist office, I need to unwind at the beach, so I picked up the Farm Manager and Bruno and a few coolers, and we sat by the water for a spell. (By the way, how utterly idiotic is it to force barbers and hairstylists to close down, while the dental hygienist gets to play in the saliva of a dozen strangers in the course of her working day? Where's the science on that?) (Spoiler alert: dentists invest more in lobbying, and money trumps both common sense and science every time.)
After such a busy day, I thought I'd settle into my easy chair with my laptop. Got comfortable out on the stoop, and busied myself reading up on Petra Kelly and Green politics, because that's something I find interesting at the moment.
The next moment, I might be swept away by the mystery of how the power-to weight ratio of the 2021 Hemi Challenger compares to that of the 1971 model. Holy shit, there's fifty friggin' years, half a century, between the old Hemi Challenger and the new one! They even look the same when they're going down the road! It's not just the Green Party spinning its wheels on wet grass!
Yes, the internet is great, isn't it?
But I digress. While I'm researching Petra, I'm being pestered by flies. They're bad this year. Eventually I remove my flip-flops and start whackin' 'em. Cheap plastic on hard concrete makes a sound not unlike a gunshot, which got Bruno and the FM all excited...
What's going on out here?
I'm unleashing the flip-flops of death...
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