I do my own stunts

I fell at school last week.  I was walking down the hallway, and I slipped on a Skittle.  I am not sure who lost the red demon Skittle, but it knocked me down with the force of a 500 pound bag of Skittles.

These are strong, slippery little suckers.

It is really embarrassing to use the school hallways as a collision crash course.  Many students saw my mishap (sadly, they did not see the Skittle – stupid Skittle) and some even offered to help me up.  I was carrying things.  My coffee, for one, my laptop, for another.  I saved the laptop, lost the coffee.  Let’s say I was bitter for the remainder of the day, because it was good coffee.  Really good coffee.  Gone.

Luckily, my favorite Tech guy at school was absent.  Or, it may have been previewed many times due to the cameras in the hallway.  Maybe fast-forwarded, rewound, played in slow motion.  All of the fun that can come with someone falling on their buttocks in the main hallway.  Did I mention it was in the main hallway where there is the most traffic between class periods?  No?  Yes, it was.  Darn Skittle.

Save a laptop. Toss a coffee.

One fun thing I found out from falling down in the hallway:  It takes me longer to recuperate than it used to.  Over the weekend, I kept complaining about my knees (yes, those crashed down and impacted with the floor), my elbows (which is the epic save for my laptop), and my wrist (which, thanks the Skittle, was no match for the gravity that impaled my travel coffee mug into a locker).

Essence of today’s post:  Beware of Skittles, and know, that as we age, we may not bounce or bounce back as easily.  At least there isn’t video to prove this.

My Own Chocolate War

Quite a few years ago, I taught the novel entitled The Chocolate War.  From the title, one may feel that it is a Willy Wonka romp through a magical land of chocolate with some prevailing conflict that can be solved by – you guessed it – chocolate.  And maybe even the Oompa-Loompas go on strike and are protesting by stopping their tireless production of chocolate, or the chocolate waterfall stops flowing and Charlie has to find out who of the original group sabotaged it.  However, that is not the case.  The novel is about a chocolate selling fundraiser, which is the hell I am dealing with at school.

Fundraisers are hard.  Schools don’t have money to buy things and even, sometimes, replace technology.  I teach a broadcasting class that airs announcements every day over our own cable channel.  This year, we have lost five video cameras.  Not physically lost, just dead soldiers who proudly served for five plus years each and every day of the school year.  Cameras are not cheap, and video cameras run around 300 clams each.  Hence the fundraiser.

What is one not-so-fundraising-creative teacher turn to?  Why, chocolate, of course.  It is not a difficult fundraiser, even though it is completely time consuming and the chocolate is always around.  This is the bad part.  I have zero willpower when it comes to chocolate.  As I said, it is always around and I see it, smell it and basically figure out ways to justify/rationalize devouring it.  Skipped breakfast?  Why not have some Buckeyes.  Afternoon snack as a reward for grading freshman essays?  Why not try a London Mint bar.  Stopping at the post office after school?  Well, you get the drift.

This time, I have 50 cases.  Each case has 48 bars.  That is a total of 2400 chocolate bars.  I could build a chocolate mountain with all of it. I could surprise my friends with a two-story chocolate fountain.  I could be the envy of my neighborhood when I don my new chocolate winter apparel.  But, I digress. In all honesty, I would love to find another fundraiser – one that is not going to cause me to gain ten pounds each year.  Any suggestions?  Well, while I am waiting, I guess I will just have to Willy Wonka it and get busy.  I have some chocolate to peddle/smell/buy/eat/enjoy.  But first, I may have to have a little, bitty bite.  And then hit the treadmill.  For days.

A quest to stop the insanity.