it's almost 3am, and i'm posting on tumblr during good friday.
very un-religious. but i had to. i had an effing bad day yesterday.

i went to work earlier than everyone else. and i get a call that my kid needed to be rushed to the hospital. i go through my work, unfocused, for the duration of the day. then went to khatib for a 1.5-hour writing class.

the coordinator calls me along the way, and says that three teachers would come late - two of them got lost, riding the wrong bus and one was duped to believing there were no classes today.

at school, my kids didn’t listen to a word i said. everyone was on “holiday mode.” i ended up psyching the kids by doing a reverse rant - it’s saying that the situation sucks, but subtly in the reverse, like “this is the worst day of my life, thank you for giving me the opportunity to experience it,” then closing the statement with a smile.

none of the kids listened; no one even cared that i said my kid was in the hospital. there was a lot of bickering in class, since someone was picking on the kid who had mild autism. apparently, “someone” took his pen (eventually we found that he merely dropped it under the table. or did he?). i couldn’t finish any lecture, so i just asked them to write about some stuff. it was the worst class i had ever taught, since i broke all my personal principles: no ranting (reverse or otherwise); no loud voices; no pop quizzes when angry. i felt like i was one of the ‘terror’ teachers we might encounter in public primary schools in the philippines (or here).

i went back to the office an hour later, only to find out the milk brand lady hasn’t seen the advertorial we made the day after. i told her to have a look at it before we could run it to the printers. she comes back to me saying she wanted amendments. then she started asking why it ran for just one page. i tried explaining it to her. this i did while i was coordinating the amendments to the designer, measuring a packaging concept, and receiving a message from back home saying my kid had UTI.

my brain’s too fudged up, too tired as well. can’t even think of longer sentences. hearing people speak fragmented english is bad for the vocabulary. believe me, it’ll make your ears bleed. (and then they still give you a remark like, “you’re filipino right? too many R’s. that’s why can’t understand english lah. try to study OK?” then they give you the puzzled look. darn it.)

classic effing bad day.