W 10-10-01 9:50 AM

I typed fifteen minutes b3efore I went to work last night. Was up until midnight reading the newspaper after I got home. Woke up, showered, dressed and drove4 here to Wilshire Hill. The kids worked on writing stories from their family interview questions, and I changed a bulletin board. That's about it. It was cold this morning, but it's hot now. I have to meet Principal McQuantico at recess. Who knows what the fuck she wants. After lunch, I have to teach a lesson called "The Size of Numbers." I had some peanut butter with some raisin bread that Miguel Bread-and-Water (Paniagua) gave me. He works at a bakery and always brings me wonderful loaves of bread. So, I'll skip lunch. Read some more Chesapeake. Man, it takes forever to read Michener. I've got to do a lesson about rivers after lunch. Maybe we'll play some softball today. I left the the laptop at home. Still haven't gotten qa book about how ot play piano. I shoudl talk to Mr. Ed. Write a third-person page when I get home. I'm stuck trying to figure out Jim's father, shi relationship to, how the once affects the other. It looks like a big job. I think I need to show that ther is leave and hate, frustration, buried, boiling emotion, sympathy guilt. The father know life can be fucked up and feels bad to have brought his boy into it a little maybe but also believes there's a formula for reducing life's fuckedupedness which his son ignores. Maybe Jim's reflection in the drier can discuss this with him. 

I walked out on the principal. Excused myself and turned my back on her. She tried to stop me, and roared in her face, "EXCUSE ME!" and walked out. 

I was lucky I didn't tell her to fuck off, though this may turn out to be just as bad. 

What made me so mad? I don't know how to explain it. She wants to know why my class is not keeping pace with Open Court. I told her that I didn't know. We were working hard every day but we just couldn't keep up. Half of my kids are second-language learners. I don't know why I didn't mention that. She asked what was going to happen to them on the assessment test. I went right where she wanted. "I guess they're going to fail," I said. "And whose fault is that?" "Mine," I said. "I'm not a very good teacher," and then I excused myself, and she tried to block me with her body from walking out the door. So, I loudly said, "Excuse me" again.

Her manner is so sickeningly passive-aggressive. Fuck her. What else can I do? I can just keep turning pages even if the kids don't understand any of it or I can try to find the pace that suits their ability, but I didn't articulate that with her. The most important thing to her as that I make her feel superior, and I won't do that. Whatever happens happens. It's in God's hands.