. . . . well! The plot thickens.

Less than 2 minutes after the mysterious verbal flogging of my students by Mrs. Frills, a paraprofessional appeared in my classroom as if by magic.  She sympathetically told me to go take a break.  But not so fast - Mrs. Frills reappeared in my classroom and said loudly in front of everyone present "you need to go home or get yourself together or something, this is ridiculous !"

Well, I may have been in the middle of a panic attack, but somehow I still managed to feel an evil presence as these words were said.  And in the same split second, despite being upset, something told me to run like hell.  I didn't need to be told twice. As I stepped over the imaginary threshold that every classroom seems to have, I knew I would never teach again.  And I was surprisingly relieved.  But still hysterical.  

A few moments later, Mrs. Frills left my classroom, and walked past me, obviously pretending I was not there.  

I made my way to the women's staff restroom where a few minutes later, another second grade teacher, who also happens to be a good friend, but incidentally is also a guy, and also happens to be the union president, showed up to talk to me.  Of course, he had no idea that I was not nearly such a mess until my students and I were verbally attacked.  So he naturally gets the idea that I really have gone off the deep end.  

I urge him to go back to his classroom, not knowing who is supervising his room. He assures me it is ok, Mrs. Frills graciously offered to cover his class so that he could come talk to me.  

Ah, now it made sense.  Mrs. Frills could relieve him to clean up the secret mess she made of me, but could not be bothered to concern herself with whatever had really happened to me before the evil set in.  Ok. I get it. This good friend was specially selected so that the union would be well aware of what a nutcase I apparently was. For the record, it is claimed that Mrs. Frills did not know I was in the women's restroom.  But seriously, where do the hysterical women teachers usually end up??

My friend advises me to go to Mrs. Frills' office to debrief or whatever. I do that and am interrogated about my medical history, medications, as well as being verbally chastised repetitively.  Mrs. Frills told me to go home and not come back for a week and to bring medical documentation back with me.  She reassured me that since parent-teacher conferences were scheduled for that evening that someone would call my parents to cancel mine. 

So I went to my classroom, packed up as much as I could carry and was out the door in 10 minutes. . . . 

(To be continued again)