Turn Of the Day

[This first appeared on this blog on November 7, 2007]

It started as one of those absolutely marvelous days, only to turn quite bad!

After a delicious morning of incredibly well-behaved and productive students, at lunch time the Principal complimented me on the day’s writing lesson which she and the Superintendent had observed. Everyone in the faculty room heard her compliments and they gave me a thumbs up! I was feeling very successful, even blissful. After lunch my students brought me sweet notes and pictures they had made for me, along with the healthy parts of their lunches they hadn’t eaten. At dismissal, I let them all go and had a short parent conference then packed my bag with the papers I would have to correct that night. Watching the clock, I headed for my car.

As I drove toward two different schools to collect my daughters, I carried the dreamy feeling with me, not allowing it to escape, even when faced by “after school traffic.” Knowing that Tina and Susie would be left alone while I ventured to my night job, I drove through Taco Bell, my girls’ favorite fast food place. While Taco Bell is not on my list of cordon bleu restaurants, I did get a chicken burrito so that I would not leave the house without eating, as my blood sugar was low and I knew that I had to have some protein if I was to make it through the evening job. Since being diagnosed with diabetes, I had begun to take better care of myself better.

The first thing I did when I entered the house was check messages. The lone message was from my daughter’s surgeon’s office. Apparently, they were unable to schedule her knee surgery due to a “book keeping” problem. I returned the call, as requested. What followed was an interesting conversation in which “Toni,” the woman who takes care of scheduling all surgical procedures for the HMO, was somewhat non-conversant, yet quite rude. I hung up and called Customer Service at, Pacific Care, for assistance.

After I explained what “Witch Toni” had said and how she’d said it, the young and very understanding, (and handsome although I have no way of knowing this) man, “Prince Bryan,” set about to solve the problem, coming back to me every few minutes to inform me of his progress and the status of the complaint. Although I felt confident that Bryan had pretty much solved the problem, I also was now ten minutes late in leaving for my evening job!

I went in to tell the girls that I was leaving, adding that I had to have my food, because I was starting to feel sick. I asked for my food. Tina looked at me with a blank stare…her mouth hanging open. I asked again. She pointed in the direction of the kitchen, behind me. I turned and saw a half unwrapped and savagely eaten burrito on top of the washing machine in the washroom.

“Is that my food? Did you let the cats eat it?” I inquired.

Tina could only nod her head.

Livid, I slammed the door to her bedroom, hoping I would knock something off the wall and break it! I grabbed my keys and headed for the door, threatening, “I’m leaving and I might not ever come back!”

Once on the freeway, I was so involved in my anger and frustration that I ended up taking the off ramp for the 134 freeway, instead of staying on the 2. I realized my mistake just as I committed to the exit. Oh no! Now what? Quick! Is there a way to get to work if I stay on this freeway? NO!!! So I got off on the first ramp, which, of course, was about a three mile drive. I headed back in the direction I had come from and righted my wrong. Once I got on the southbound 2, I realized that I had no gas! Now what? I had not had time to stop at the ATM. Okay, just peachy! No food in my stomach, no gas in my tank, no money in my wallet, and no time on the clock! I reached for my purse with my right hand and rummaged through my wallet, feeling for money. I pulled out two singles and a lone five dollar bill. I made it to the last gas station I knew of before a long, isolated stretch on which I would not have wanted to run out of gas. I pumped five dollars worth of gas, keeping a couple of dollars, in case I had time to get a quick bite of something before getting to work.
Of course, because it was so much later than normal, the traffic was unbearable and I became convinced that I would not arrive at work on time. There are few things I hate worse than arriving late for anything, especially a responsibility, such as a job! So, I did the next stupid thing. I decided to find a short cut! Three blocks into this short cut, the street came to a dead end. I maneuvered my car through a series of streets surrounding the primarily industrial area in a very rough section of east Los Angeles. I kept thinking that this was not an area in which I wanted to be lost. There was no one to ask for directions, nor do I think I would have stopped in that area even if I had seen anyone.

Finally, I found a main street — Main Street — and picked a direction without knowing if it was the right one or not. I kept heading in a direction I believed to be south east, sensing that I was very close to the facility at which I work. Nothing. No familiar streets. No numbered streets. No signs. No landmarks that I could identify. Now what? Time was running out. I was hungry. I was shaky. I was starting to feel desperate.

At a stop light, I decided to grab my purse and start looking for the phone number for my boss, Kelly, so I could pull over once I found a well-lit area. I figured I would call him and tell him I was lost. That way he would be somewhat prepared when 6:00 rolled around and I was not there to greet my students. If I was lucky, he might be able to give me directions on how to get to the facility, although, honestly speaking, I was in such a state that I probably would have insisted that someone come and get me and take me “home.”

Just as I realized that I did not have the phone number with me, I looked up and saw a street sign — Avenida Cesar Chavez — I remembered having driven near here before and was pretty sure that Avenida Cesar Chavez would intersect with either Boyle or Fourth Street, which is where I work, at Fourth and Boyle. I instinctively turned right on Cesar Chavez. Before few blocks had passed, I came across Boyle! I turned left on Boyle, even though I had no idea where I was. A few blocks later, just as I was ready to turn around to go back in the opposite direction, I came across Fourth Street, realizing just in time, that I knew exactly where I was!

As I turned into the driveway, I looked at the clock on my dashboard. I was only about three minutes late. I was a basket case, but I was not terribly late. Teachers had to clock in no later than fifteen minutes before 6 so we’d be there when the kids arrived. I was late but the kids weren’t there yet. I was okay!

I walked into the building, clocked in, walked upstairs, and found the guys hanging out in Kelly’s office. I walked in, shook my head, and incoherently blurted out parts of the story. The guys just looked at me blankly and offered me candy. I shook my head and laughed at myself then headed for the vending machines, looking for some protein to tide me over for the three hours til I could leave. I found it – protein – in the form of peanuts! On the way to my classroom, I grabbed one of the chocolate covered raisin packages Kelly had offered me, figuring it would help keep my sugar up til I could find food on my way home.

Once in the classroom, I decided to tell my students the story and invite them to think of a time in which everything went wrong for them and write about it along with what they did to handle the situation. What resulted was a stack of wonderful, creative, and very human stories! As I read through them, I decided that this was the perfect recipe for turning a bad day around!