Thursday, I had a horrible day at work. My second period freshman broke out into a 3 ring circus, and all I could do was yell. Less than one minute after I had angrily slammed a door, the new principal came in and observed. And unless he was deaf, Im sure he heard the yelling and the door slamming.
For the rest of the day, I was afraid to go to the front office, for fear he would call me in for a "chat."
At the end of the day, there was nothing I could do but admit defeat and pray that tomorrow would be better. So on my way home from work, I went out of my way and drove down the highway 70 during rush hour.
"Yes, I'd like a chicken breast dinner with fries and an unsweatened iced tea," I said. Just saying the words was making me feel better.
As the cashier handed me my little yellow box, I smiled and said, "May I have hot sauce and ketchup please."
I was tempted to pop a few hot seasoned fries in my mouth on my way home, but I resisted temptation.
When I got home, I tore a slit in the hot sauce packet and drizzled the red-orange hotsauce on my spicy golden brown chicken breast. As a tore into the chicken breast, for a moment anyway, all was right with the world. The large flat recatangled seasoned fries and the biscuit added to my sense of contentment.
After I finished my chicken dinner, I watched a little TV, talked on the phone, and before 9:30 I was asleep. I woke up Friday morning, vowing that today would be better. And it was. The weather that day was a sunny 70 degrees. And I was calmer, and in return my 2nd period class was calmer.
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