Just when I thought she couldn't lose any more of my respect...

If you've been keeping up with my regular rantings related to my lovely principal, then you already know how very, very little faith I have in her. Let's just say that every time I hear something else, I am just further convinced that I made the right decision in not returning next year.

Case in point. First of all, ever since I returned the declined renewal of a contract for next year, she has ceased friendliness and mere conversation with me. She talks to me only when absolutely necessary (which is rare) and only in brief, to-the-point intervals.

Next point. I had gotten wind that they were going to be starting a summer school program this year, and I thought, "hey, even though I can't stand the woman I work for, maybe I could tolerate her for a few extra months, just to make ends meet for the summer." So I casually asked her what the plan was for summer school and if she needed anyone. Mind you, this was the FIRST DAY that the summer school idea had been announced to staff. In fact, some didn't even know about it yet. And she blatanly told me that "a bunch of people" had already asked her and she couldn't give "everyone" a job for the summer. Funny. How could "a bunch of people" have even asked her yet? Oh well. Their loss.

Third and most head-shaking point. Today, I was talking with the special ed teacher and she's very good friends with the lady in the business office at school. I guess the week before Spring Break, the business office lady (I'll call her Sally for the sake of giving her a name, but not her real one) had pneumonia. Sally and her husband were down bad with it, and were cooped up at home. Well, The Witch (yes, that's my name for my principal in this story) calls Sally and asks her to fax The Witch's college-aged son the school credit card number (normally used for school purchases, obviously), because he is on vacation and doesn't have any money. Here's what's wrong with this: first of all, this is the school's money, not the principal's money. Secondly, he's in college, and should be a big boy. THIRDLY, AND THE MOST BOTHERSOME PART, Sally is not only sicker than a dog and in bed, but her fax machine is up a hill at their house (they were staying in a motor home far down on their property, while their house was being remodeled). So, poor Sally's husband dragged himself out of bed, pneumonia and all, and hiked up (in the snow, no less) and faxed the credit card number to The Witch's son. THEN, after Spring Break, everyone returns to work, and The Witch gives Sally a piece of paper. "What is this?" Sally asks. "You need to call the credit card company, because they didn't use the school credit card for my son's purchase, they used his". That's weird, Sally thinks. "I thought he didn't have any money with him," Sally says with obviously much confusion. "Oh, he did. But I didn't want him to use his money," The Witch says. She goes on to say that Sally needs to do this, because when she asked her to fax the credit card number, she was only asking her "a small favor" and that after all she had done for Sally, she should be willing to do whatever she asked. Apparently, Sally told her where to stick that piece of paper and stormed off. If this story made sense to you (and hopefully it did. I've got Mason running a toy car over the kitchen floor and it's a bit distracting. But at least he's playing without being mad I'm on here), then you can see how shady and manipulative and kanniving The Witch--err, I mean my principal is. Sometimes I'm speechless when I see or hear the antics that go on at my work. I can't wait to get out of there.

Oh yeah, and regarding my last blog, Chris Daughtry disappointed me last night. He sang Creed's "What If" and it wasn't that good. I hope he stays though, and gets a chance to redeem himself.

So that's my life.