I'm headed out the door to pick up a prescription which -- I fondly hope -- will make this confounded skull-splitting roar in my ears go away.
Today at school was one of the ones I'd rather forget. There are a few students who I'd like to put through a couple of weeks of 24/7 training... not unlike the "Potty-Training Boot Camp" I used to do for friends with intractable toddlers. These boys just have no concept of authority and respect, probably because no-one's ever required it from them and backed up the requirement with severe-enough consequences to make it stick.
There's only so much I can do as a humble English teacher. If I were a JROTC sergeant, I could do so much more for them. The worst-case troublemakers and the drifty-eyed Goths turned into amazing kids under the tutelage of Sergeants Jackson and Gettler at North High School in Des Moines. It's too bad they don't have that here; it'd do a world of good for some of these smart@$$ brats.
UPDATE: No can do, the pharmacy sez. I guess my doc's office didn't get the scrip called in yet. Tomorrow... tomorrow... tomorrow... tomorrow... tomorrow will be a better day. It has to be. Hey -- at least it seems like I might be making a teeny-weeny dent in making friends with the other adults at North Ruralville High School. No actual off-campus friendships (who knows if that will ever happen) but I do actually get some folks to speak to me now.