As the end of the school year begins to approach, someone here is cleaning out their classroom a little early.
I'm not exactly sure what this thing is, but it looks like the top part of a grade school desk, where kids store their pencils and pens for easy access. It may also be a part of a drafting table. Whatever the case, the rest of the piece of furniture is missing...but it is joined by the following items:
A couple of Rulers. . .
. . .an electric pencil sharpener. . .
. . .and this pencil holder. I'm only assuming this is a pencil holder, judging by what was surrounding it. It could also be a poorly designed drinking cup, I suppose.
Since it's clearly too soon for any real teacher to be ridding herself of these items, I started thinking that maybe these are the sad remnants of a Substitute Teacher.
The woman who lives across the hall from me has that Substitute Teacher vibe about her. She reminds me of my 7th Grade Substitute Teacher, Mrs. Whartenbie, who was brought in as a "Permanent Sub" when our nun took ill with some mysterious Catholic Disease. Like Mrs. W., my neighbor is not the kind of wooman who commands any sort of respect when she walks into a room full of children. No...when this short, mid-40's, semi-dumpy woman comes in with her messy over-the-top red hair, her messy over-the-top red makeup and her messy over-the-top outfits:
. . .the kids smell blood and they pounce immediately...just like we did with Mrs. W.
OK, who am I kidding? I didn't do any of the actual tormenting. I was too busy being relieved that the kids had found someone else to abuse for a little while, leaving me and my nerdface alone. Unfortunately, the Permanent Subbery of Mrs. W. didn't last very long, as my classmates drove her away in tears within two weeks. She eventually ended up subbing only for third graders and below. Meh. Serves her right for giving me a B- on my English paper when I was the only one not actively trying to murder her.
Anyway, the woman across the hall has that same air about her. Single, desperately wanting to be liked, but constantly being giggled at and spitballed. I imagine the students may have finally gotten the best of her, so she has no use for any of the items she'd bring to her temporary desk each day...like this planter. . . .
. . .or these coffee mugs:
In all likelihood, she'd have some sort of flower inside of the planter that she'd carry to each classroom in an effort to control some part of the space that could never be hers...something permanent to hold on to in her topsy-turvey world.
The coffee mugs were brought in and taken home each day as well..likely because by the end of the day, there was a host of lugies and other materials produced by the grade school kids that no single woman should have to drink. But I don't feel too badly for her....no child should have to see a middle aged woman in yellow pants.