No Common Sense

I don’t have a lick of common sense.

This should come as a relief to my father, who has been waiting for a definitive answer to a question he has asked me repeatedly starting somewhere around age eight.

“Girl, what’s the matter with you?  Don’t you have a lick of common sense?”

No, Pops, apparently I don’t. Not a lick.

And just like whacking your brother upside the head with the nearest toy or staying out way past curfew might have seemed like a good idea at the time, there are certain experiences in adulthood that make one think, “This is gonna be awesome,” followed rapidly by the more realistic, “Holy shitballs…what was I thinking?”

Like, hypothetically, switching jobs, moving, starting a long term relationship and opening a business.  All at once.  While also trying to maintain a blog and not let the pipe dream of writing a sassy book go completely down the tubes.

Suddenly realizing that I can’t possibly get everything done has provoked some difficult choices.  I’ve had to admit that pulling off a ten mile hike every weekend might not be a realistic goal. I’ve come to terms with the fact that three hours of my day cannot be dedicated to Facebook.  (Two and a quarter, however, is totally reasonable.)  I’ve recognized that happy hour with friends is not a good time to multi-task by answering work emails.  And as part of this  soul-searching, the blog has fallen slightly by the wayside.

But is far from being forgotten.

Instead, I’ve decided to give my readers the short end of the stick…with the promise of a much longer stick in the future.  And if you just sniggered at the phrase “longer stick,” you are exactly the kind of reader I want.

I’m hoarding posts.  My brain cannot keep up with coaching new teachers, running a small business, working at three schools and writing snarky blog posts while also compiling enough extra posts to create my highly-unlikely-but-stubbornly-persistent dream of writing a book.  On education.  Singing Pigs style.  And then having to go into hiding from all the crazy wackos who go “See? We told you American teachers suck!”

But we’ll cross that people-with-no-sense-of-humor bridge when we come to it.  Or I will at least.  The rest of you can feel free to pretend you don’t know me.  I’m used to it.

In the meantime, I’ll continue posting albeit noticeably less.

But know that I’m squirreling away the best of the stories for the book.  One fell swoop of educational insanity in downloadable form.  Because even as I sit here staring at bookshelves covered in all the Understanding by Design and First Days of School that a girl could want, I still haven’t read a damn thing that tells me what to do when a drunken mother shouts “Buttplug!” in the middle of back to school night.


I just gave away chapter one.

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3 Responses to No Common Sense

  1. It’s my 33rd year teaching – and an unexpectedly tough one. Your blog gives me a chuckle (and sometimes a guffaw) and helps me keep going.

    • singingpigs says:

      33 years?? Good gawd – you deserve…a…I was going to say “purple heart” but in reality, 33 years is so hard to imagine I don’t think even that would cut it. IT’S TIME TO RETIRE, YOU CRAZY LADY. Not that you don’t do your job well but we, as a society owe you. Big time. So go make someone buy you a drink, then dance ’til dawn.
      Good luck getting through this year. I’m sure you’ll make it. And with that kind of experience under your belt, I bet you are chock-full of good stories. If you’d ever let me interview you, I am, in all seriousness, collecting stories. 🙂

  2. A.J. Carroll says:

    Yep…I snickered. Lol. Good one!

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