No one is named Panda Sanchez.

Published April 21, 2016 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

I probably don’t need to mention that most of my days border on the absurd.  It’s my own fault. Apparently I just ask for weirdness when I insist on trying to sprinkle the world with a light coating of happy.  (No, I’m not being sarcastic.  I do make an actual attempt to greet people with a smile and genuine remark. Imagine how Public Education reacted to me. Here’s a hint, I am now working for three private schools and a tutoring company.)

My descent into madness is indeed paved with good intentions.  This is one of those crazy weeks where I work all three jobs in rapid succession. I need weeks like this to help me make it through the summer slump while I wait longingly for a contract to appear.

This week I am working at the school that is my top choice for employment.  I am working in the library.  I love books. I love reading and I love this school, so what’s the problem, Writer Chick?

It’s the pacing of this particular job, especially since yesterday, Tuesday is the busiest of all of the library days. It is also the day that there is no volunteer or anyone especially inclined to help me out.

It all started out ok, even when I had to get up fifteen minutes earlier than usual. I had a key to get in and I was all aquiver with hope and responsibility (World’s worst reality show.) Not bad. It was rainy and gloomy outside so I was able to wear boots. With said boots I was wearing a pair of pants from the Thrift Store Outlet. These pants are from a very expensive brand and I paid a mere two dollars for them.

So I took my happy, booted self into the library where I was met with a full to bursting book drop and a concerned looking maintenance man. Apparently every child in the school returned books the previous day and the roof started leaking so checking books in was low priority as the staff rescued the books by moving them to other shelves. Once again, no problem.

The absolute second children were allowed in the building , 7:30 and thirty seconds, about four wee ones materialized clutching dimes because they wanted to pay fines so they could check out books later.  I actually knew how to do this and got this taken care of. Then one tiny child brought it to my attention that a book had fallen between the wall and the book drop, so I leaned over to retrieve it at the exact same time as another child reached to put another book in the drop, causing it to plonk on my head and make a coconut-like sound.

Still, no problem. (I once had three different kids at two different schools throw up on me in the same day. And then I went out with my boyfriend who dumped me. Really.)

Everything went well into the first hour of the day.  I looked at the schedule and realized there was no real lull until lunchtime. Still no problem. Then the used pants decided they didn’t like me. The waist band was slipping, and not being one who likes to moon Catholic School Children, I went to the restroom to see what was happening. As I adjusted my pants, the thread holding the top button on decided to completely unravel. I placed the  button on the edge of the sink (Bad idea) while I investigated the situation. Being me, I knocked the button into the sink, and when I tried to retrieve it, it plopped down the drain. I heard it actually clink on the pipe. (Sigh)

Now this would not usually bother me except yesterday I  was scheduled to be at the school until 3:30, go tutor student 1 from 4-5:30, then head out to tutor student 2 from 6-7:30.  No time for new pants (World’s worst children’s movie.)

There is more to the story than that, especially since a kindergartner came back to the library specifically to give me a hug because, “You’re funny.”

That’s great kid, because today I’m wearing a dress.

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