Once Bitten Twice Shy

I've not said much about the new job. I think it's taken me these last few weeks to process it all, sort out my feelings, and wonder why in the world I chose Special Ed. Let's get this out of the way: I chose it so that I could be off when my kids are off. So that I can be home with them in the afternoons, and so I will be with them on all the holidays and silly teacher this and thats. Some days I come home from work feeling useless and ineffective. Somedays I come home feeling like I've changed the world. Yesterday was a major set back. This hairy image before you is my arm:

I was attacked by one of my sweet students yesterday. She bit me (yes bit me) in attempt of getting out of PE. But after serving her sentence in the timeout room (where she visits often) we marched her to the gym, teaching her that hurting the teacher is not the way out. It's not the first time she's marked me. The bruise finally faded on my arm from when she pinched me, again trying to get out of PE.

I was immediately sent to the office to fill out the proper paperwork and found a sympathetic staff and a furious principal, not with me of course.

My next stop was to the workers comp clinic. Yes, it's just as miserable of an experience as it sounds. Let me just tell you that they're idiots; the nurse lost the vein and tried to find it with the needle in me during my blood test, I had to remind them to give me the tetanus shot, and then she couldn't remember which shot she gave me. But that's not all, I still need a series of blood tests to rule out HIV and Hep A&B (hello! I live in the land of the Mormons, I think I'm clean), and I have to get Hep A&B vaccinations.

So stay tuned for when I come to you crying when I get my first wee paycheck at the end of October and need to be reminded why I took this crazy job.