My Brain on Testing . . .

Ugh . . . 4 hours. Not allowed to do ANYTHING with my brain, and also not allowed to sleep – this is some twisted kind of torture.  Okay.  I can do something with my brain, just nothing that shows on the outside.  Mindfulness meditation.  Let’s try that.  Breathe in . . . out . . . in . . . Hey, I know a good way to rearrange the garage when I get home.  Why do we have all that stuff on that side?  It’ll fit much more efficiently on the other side.  Moving stuff around in my brain, picturing it – yeah I think that’ll work; can’t wait to get home and try it.

It’s been 14 minutes.  Cry.

Urrrggghhh . . . yep.  He’s working on test, not cheating, she’s not cheating, she’s not, he’s not, etc., etc.  Now, from the other direction.  Yep, still testing, still not cheating.  Hey, look, Test Mix. (Like Chex Mix, but made special for test days.)  I’m not hungry, but acknowledging the different tastes while chewing is at least something my brain can do.  Crunch, crunch . . . Mmmm . . . savory . . . some is stuck in my tooth.  Wonder how long it will take to dissolve by itself if I just sit here without moving and wait . . . Now I’ll eat some of the sweet bits.  Frosted Cheerious.  Yum.  Oooh, I know. I’ll eat blind handfuls with savory and sweet mixed together – won’t know what each bite tastes like till I get it in my mouth.  Exciting!

Crunch . . . crunch . . . ooh, pretzel.  Kyle doesn’t like pretzels.  I should make him some snack mix with no pretzels . . . Snack mix sans pretzels.  Pretzelless snack mix.  Pretzelless . . . kind of sounds like a new name some hipster yuppie will name their kid eventually.  Probably spelled differently though – Pretceless,  Pretseles, Pretcelous.  Yep.  I think it’s a boy name.  He could go by Pretz.  Or Les. People would think his name was Lester or Lesley, but then he could surprise them with his real, super cool name.   If he spelled it Pretsullous, he could go by Sully.  Kind of sounds like a royal name.  Prince Pretcelous of Whatevershire.  Royal Pretzel Company.  They could make two kinds of snack mixes – Pretzelous (with lots of pretzels) And Pretzelless (with no pretzels.)  That would be confusing because they sound the same and people would have to read to make sure they got the right kind.  Kyle: Amanda why did you buy Pretzelous, you know I like Pretzelless better.  Amanda: I got both.  The Pretzeless is in the pantry. Gimme my Pretzelous!

Arrgggh . . . 2 more hours.  So tired.  Look at that little girl sleeping.  Grrrr.  I love her when she’s awake but I kind of hate her right now.  Wish I could take a nap.  No, no – I don’t hate her.  I love her.  Sweet baby, look at her sleep.  Smile.  Yawn.  OMG, last hour of the test and only two kids still working. So much harder to keep the others quiet when they have finished.  What is wrong with you two?! Oh my god, hurry up!  No, no, – don’t hurry.  Do your best.   Makes no difference; we are stuck in silent, staring hell till the time’s up anyway.

Crunch.

Crunch.

Sigh.

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About dahnajeen

I'm Donna Jean Hunter. My 3rd grade teacher, Mrs. Patterson told me I was a great writer and would be an author when I grew up. She always had me read my stories to the class, and even took me around to the other classrooms to have me read to them. I'm pretty sure the other kids all hated me that year. I don't care though. I love Mrs. Patterson. Of course she did not know then about the Internet and blogging and how much of what people read would no longer be on paper when I grew up. I have had a few things published in a college literary journal, and once, for a few weeks--until it threatened to kill me with boredom and I quit--I actually received pay for working as a technical writer. But so far, I have not been able to say that I'm a writer in the sense that it is what I do for a living. I still sort of dream of that happening one day. But in the meantime, I teach high school English, and can't stop being a writer whether anyone reads it or not. I hope someone enjoys some of it.
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