May 23, 2007

• This Post Has No Title

  Yesterday was one more reminder why I am glad to be done with the public school system. 
  
  Let me draw you a picture.
  
  I walk into the school.  I have walked in the school a million times, for six straight years, where my face, if not my name, is well known.
  
  I wanted to buy a DVD of the senior sleep over since I missed the hypnotist.
  
  There is a sign that says PLEASE ENTER THROUGH THE MAIN OFFICE.  I walk in and walk up to desk one.  Secretary who knows me is sitting at the desk.  I tell her I need to pay for a senior night dvd.  She tells me in a gruff tone that she needs to see an ID and that I need to fill out the name sticker.  I say " wow, I didn't expect that."  I dig through my purse and wallet and look for my never used licence.  I scribble my name on the tag, and the date, and time, my mothers maiden name, my social security number, the date I said my first word, the names of my last three pets, and the make of my dads first car. 
  
  She says " Well, I don't know anything about DVDs you need to talk to Peggy."  Peggy's desk is two feet away.
  
   I understand the big security issue now.  I might turn into someone else in the half a second it takes me to walk to Peggy's desk.  I might make a run for it and put bubbles in the pool.  Who knows what I might do, and it's very important they have all my information.  Even though they could just tell the cops " it was Mrs. Exspunge", now there would be actual proof, although the proof would be on my name tag, which is right above my right breast.
  
  But who am I to question?  I am sure someone, somewhere, knows why I have to wear a name tag to step to a desk that is in the same room as where I filled out the name tag.  I just need to find them.
  
  I step over to Peggy's desk and explain why I'm there.  Peggy tells me the forms are next to original secretary's desk.
  
  I step back to desk one and fill out the form and write a check for $12.99.  I step back to Peggy's desk, hand her the form and the check.  She writes me a receipt.
  
  I step out of the school and know that next year, with my kids long gone, Jennie in Africa, Matt in Indiana,  I'll probably look for excuses to walk into that damn school.
  
  But the great part is, I don't HAVE to.
  
  I have moved on to college red tape and paper work.
  
  Ain't education great?

  • 10:45 pm
  • 39 Comments