If this is the apocalypse, I like it. Zombies welcome. As long as it’s warm and sunny, I don’t see why we can’t coexist.
All posts by Emily
Next Time I’ll Give Him a Newspaper
I think he missed my point

Me (holding up homework sheet): “Hey, kiddo. Do you happen to have wild animals living with you in your apartment?”
Kid: “No. My cat Muffin hardly bothers me at all!”
Me: “Oh. Well I just assumed there must be wild animals around, because why else would your sheet look like this?”
Kid: “I don’t know. It definitely wasn’t Muffin. He’s a good cat.”
Honesty

Me (to student): “Did you do your homework on a calculator?”
Kid: “No!!!”
Me: “Well, I find it hard to believe that you randomly came up with that super long number as your answer. Which would technically be the correct answer to 40 divided by 3, had you used a decimal point after the first 3. But that would be strange, since we never taught you decimal points. Only remainders.”
Kid: (Blank stare)
Me: “Also, I see NO work.”
Kid: (Blanker stare)
Me: “So again, I will ask you– did you use a calculator?”
Kid (wide-eyed): “NO. I did NOT.”
Me: “Unfortunately I don’t believe you.”
Kid: “I swear! I used an iPhone!!!!!”
Social Anxiety Thought Spiral
That moment when you get in the elevator and press “Lobby,” but there’s a man coming down the hall pushing a cart and yelling “Hold the elevator please!” so you quickly press the “Door Open” button, and hold it down firmly.
Except that the “Door Open” button you’re pushing is actually the “Door Close” button, and you hit it by accident because you are tired and have A.D.D. and are also a little dumb, but mostly because the “Door Close” button looks EXACTLY FUCKING LIKE the “Door Open” button, and really this is the fault of elevator-makers everywhere.
So the door closes on the man’s cart (because again, you are furiously pushing the “Door Close” button). And he watches you as you continue to push the “Door Close” button, and the door continues to close on his cart.
Then he miraculously makes it inside the elevator, despite your (unintentional, but nonetheless vicious and repeated) attempts to sabotage him.
And it is at THIS point, as you are riding down in silence and staring at that uncooperative button, that you realize your error. And you realize that he knows exactly which button you were pushing. And that he must assume you were purposely trying to close the door on him, because no one is dumb enough to push that hard and that repeatedly on the wrong button.
And he’s staring at you and shaking his head.
And he’s black.
And you want to scream out, “It was an accident! I’m not racist! I swear! I am happy to share this elevator with you, sir! I voted for Obama! I have black friends! I FUCKING LOVE OPRAH!!!”
But you’re pretty sure that’ll make it worse.
So you just hang your head down and accept that you’re a racist now.
Just a big, dumb, ignorant racist who won’t let innocent minorities through the door.
You’re basically the exact opposite of what this country stands for.
You’re disgusting.
You should run for president!!!!!!!!! ![]()

Thank You For Letting Us Know
That moment when the parent of a student sends you and your co-teacher a rude, confrontational note in an envelope, but she accidentally also encloses the results of her gynecological exam.
She has Menorrhagia.
It’s characterized by a heavy menstrual flow.
Yeah. I googled it.

Teaching Advice
Do NOT try to reprimand your misbehaving class while there is (unbeknownst to you) a huge chunk of chocolate stuck to your front tooth.
They will not take you seriously. Neither will your co-teacher.
No, really– your co-teacher and 27 nine-year-olds will laugh at you for 10 solid minutes, and you will lose all credibility.
But then, luckily, you’ll remember that you never truly had credibility.
And that will make you feel better.
Until 10 seconds later, when you realize how sad that is.
Just swallow your chocolate, ok?

Yeah…He Probably Did
Me: “When Columbus landed in what is now America, and he wanted to tell people back home what he found, what do you think he did?”
Kid: (Silence)
Me: “Well…Do you think he whipped out his iPhone and said ‘Siri– call home!’?”
Kid: (giggling) “Noooo!!!”
Me: “Well then what did he do?”
Kid (long, contemplative pause): “He probably used his flip phone.”




