My phone rang at 6am yesterday morning. I rolled over and answered it against my better judgment. "Would you like to work today?" the voice on the other end said. "Yes," I mumbled. I knew that if I asked what type of job it was today I would probably say "no" when I heard the answer. I need the money, so I'm trying to say "yes" before I know what I'm saying "yes" to.
Turns out that I said "yes" to middle school special ed.
And it wasn't just any middle school. It was my old middle school.
Within a half an hour of arriving, there's a mentally handicapped child telling me he wants to pet the rabbits. My life is a sitcom, I swear. Not only that, but the writers are becoming more cultured and are tossing in the occasional literary reference. It's incredible.
My job was to hang out with this autistic kid who's favorite word was "NO!" He wouldn't stop itching his crotch and eventually he had to be sent home. I was then ordered to hang out in an 8th grade science class and help with a specific list of really low/mentally handicapped kids. They had to do some poster project about evolution. Rulers and magic markers were flying everywhere. It was hell.
Two kids in the back of the class were especially awful. They had just discovered "your mom" jokes and spent the entire class yelling really dumb things that I don't feel like repeating. Finally I told them to knock it off. "You're being inappropriate," I say, attempting to sound authoritative. "You need to be talking about science."
And before I can internally giggle over the fact that I, the girl who can't say the word "penis" without laughing, just told someone they were being inappropriate, one of the kids flips me the bird.
The life of a musician isn't always glamorous.