Picture day is tomorrow. Kids are so cute on picture day. To look at, anyway. The whole waiting in the smelly old gym for an hour with nothing to do isn't very cute. Last year at that time, I was in my own personal hell. It happened to be right smack dab in the middle of the free fall of death stage (see First Year of Teaching graph) and I was just trying to keep myself alive. I was the last one in line.
"I get my picture taken today too, right? For the yearbook?"
The photographer just looked at me blankly. "You know, there are retakes in a couple of weeks."
"Retakes?"
"Yeah," she said. "If you didn't want to get your picture taken today. For some reason." She stared at some place between my eyebrows and my forehead. Maybe my hair... when was the last time I washed it?
I must have looked pretty rough for a school photographer to tell me to wait to get my picture taken. Especially since she had just shot a girl in lime green skinny jeans without skipping a beat. Needless to say, tomorrow I'm pulling out all the stops. I don't want my self-confidence to be blown by a poorly paid broad with a camera.
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