Wednesday, April 06, 2011

What dignity?

So, I knew it was going to happen. Pregnant teacher, two potties* down the hall which she can visit only between classes or on conference period. I can leave class a little early or be late, but I knew some day...

Today I ate lunch and then went down to the library for 5th period. I was having a good discussion with a colleague and didn't run away exactly when the bell rang. There were two kids waiting for the elevator, one in a wheelchair, one with a wheelie bag. I decided to take my chances on the stairs (I have no trouble walking them, but not unlike home with the three stories and a dog trying to trip me, I worry about falling).

I got downstairs and the Life Skills kids were in line/using the faculty restrooms. They have every right, but argh, can't they do it after the bell? So, I ran down to my room and unlocked the door. At this point, walking hurts. Heck, standing hurts.

I ran back to the bathroom and nothing had changed. I ran to the girls' restroom and there were 4-5 girls in line. Since they have to get tardy passes and I don't, I didn't play my Pregnant Teacher Card. Plus, the girls said I really, really didn't want to use that bathroom. I put my knees together and said dramatically and for effect, "I'm going to pee in my pants!" And ran upstairs.

Luckily, the scary 2nd floor faculty restroom, which I normally avoid, was available. I did my business and then came downstairs and got to class, oh, five minutes late. Sorry, class.

Although I was desperate to pee, I did think the whole thing was funny. I also enjoyed the fact that about 3 of the girls in the restroom were my students and we got a chuckle out of my predicament. Further proving my mother right when she says that many, many bonding experiences as women happen in the restroom.



*The women's restroom is a little scary, but we have a cheap little laminate "vanity" (I use that term loosely) with a decentish sink. I bring in nice soap since I can't handle washing my hands with school soap--if there is any--six times a day. Right next door is the men's bathroom. Besides having to touch the seat to pull it down (ewwww!), the lighting is messed up, so it's always dark, the paint is dark rather than light gray, and the sink is this utilitarian porcelain thing attached to the wall. I call it the prison bathroom. Of course, I sometimes use it, but I'll wait for the other one.

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