Don't really want to write about my day but I keep telling myself I should do it because "It might make you feel better." Ever inspired by the layout I chose for this diary years ago.

I got a text from my boss this morning at around 6:45am while I was drinking my coffee saying my partner called out sick. My partner has the company car, with the entire "kit" I need for my presentations in schools. I had to get up, throw clothes on, and leave the house as fast as I could so I could drive to the other side of Montreal to pick up the car and journey to the school on my own-- for the first time ever.

First of all, I just want to say that he calls out sick the day after the Superbowl. The Superbowl that we've been talking about for weeks, that we were excited that we were able to stay in Montreal so we could watch the game with our friends. He texted my boss at 1:30am saying he was sick, and in this morning claimed he didn't sleep all night and he was in no shape to work.

Sure.

I don't know what to think about that. I would hope that this person, considering the job we do, and considering the implications of calling out sick like that.. I would hope he would be responsible enough to not get wasted like that when we had to work in a high school at 8:30 the next morning. I would hope he would be more professional, more mature.

Regardless. At the end of the day it doesn't matter. What's done is done.

I get to his place and go to start the car... the battery is dead. Shitter. But ok, fine, I had my car there anyway so I begrudgingly would have to put everything in my car and use that for work. No big deal.

Except the guy pretty much had the car parked backed into a tree. One of those big giant bushy trees. I could barely get the trunk open, let alone get everything out. Imagine me, in my semi-business casual wear, pretty much inside a tree trying to drag a huge hockey bag out of the trunk of a car.

I think that part was the worst. Just adding insult to injury. A fantastic start to my day.

I get to the school almost an hour late. It was halfway through the period during which I was supposed to be presenting. The kids were pretty chill, just minding their own business and reading while I set my stuff up. I managed to do a presentation meant for 50-75 minutes in a mere 25. By myself, by the way. It's a two person job, the way its written, but I managed to create an abridged version and still get all of the major points across. Pretty proud of myself for that actually.

The second presentation wasn't too bad. I found my groove a bit better, but it sucked in the sense that it was just plain boring. It's hard to be engaging dynamic when you're standing by yourself in front of a bunch of 14 year olds talking about depression.

During lunch instead of suffering every teenager's nightmare of eating alone in the cafeteria, I imposed myself upon the teachers lounge. Managed to quasi-fit in talking about Olympic hockey and stuff, but really I was just one random chick in there for one day so those teachers could care less about "making friends."

My last presentation of the day was awful. I feel defeated by it. I don't know if it was me or if it was the kids. Because sometimes you do come across the odd class where they are just hopeless and you'll never win. I suffered through that hour, with a beat up ego because normally I'm a fucking riot, I capture their attention, and I make them laugh. But these students.. were just not there at all. I would say something, and one would make a comment, then all of a sudden the whole class is chattering. I'm not their teacher, I'm not allowed to yell at them or discipline them in the slightest. My usual tactics of staredown and playing chicken didn't work. I felt like I looked like the chicken.

By the end of that class I felt inadequate. The teacher was probably thinking "And this girl wants to be a teacher??" I was just so thrown off by my entire day and by the circumstances that I completely bombed that presentation. I know I am being hard on myself and that's probably not true. I mean, I finished it. I said everything I needed to say. But it wasn't excellence, and I hold myself to the standard of committing nothing less than excellence. Those kids were bored. They weren't listening. They weren't respectful. I'm not used to that kind of response.

Sigh.

I left by telling the teacher, wow that was difficult, thanks for helping discipline the students as much as he did (he did end up kicking a kid out), but at the very least I did learn from the experience. Which is all true.

So I'm done beating myself up about it, and done being passive aggressively mad at partner for (most likely) calling out hungover on me. I had a day and I have to remember we all have those days sometimes, and that's ok.