You know those days that start out super fabulous? You feel great, you love the world, and you know it’s going to be a beautiful day! Those days?

And then your 6th grade class shows up and walks into your classroom like they’re walking into the local mall? All sorts of loud and rambunctious and all sorts of goofy? And then the Autistic 6th grader has a meltdown because of a clay tragedy that isn’t so much a tragedy? And then the 6th graders bail on you during clean up time, leaving you and the poor 5th graders to clean up they’re clay mess?

And then you realize that because of a mess-up in the kiln schedule, which caused you to delay your 5th grade kiln firing, you don’t have anything planned that day for the 5th grade class, who are already in the classroom?

And then, at lunch, when you actually make it down to the faculty lounge to share some special news with some special people (aka the “Specialists”), you discover that they’re all so engrossed in a conversation (aka Bitch Session) about all sorts of discouraging and depressing things that in the 15 minutes you all happen to have lunch together, you didn’t get a single word in and were left behind, alone, without a lunch, when they all get up, together, still in conversation, and head back to their rooms?

And then, when your 2nd graders, who used to be your favorite class, show up and two students have new behavior plans, which brings the total up to three, and it takes so long to get through instruction that the kids only have about 30 minutes to work, not that they get anything accomplished, at least not anything accomplished correctly, because 2/3 of them didn’t actually pay attention to your demonstration at the start of class?

And then your 1st graders show up and during paint time one of the three autistic kids has a meltdown, which causes total breakdown with not only the two other autistic kids, but also the rest of the class, who insist on yelling to each other, not following correct paint station rules, and running around the classroom while you’re trying to not only help the aide with the meltdown in the corner, but also clean up, not one, but two paint spills caused by the same student within five minutes because he wasn’t following paint stations rules?

And then you realize that you forgot it was Thursday, which means you have afternoon duty, which has you rushing down there a few minutes late, only to discover that the two 6th grade patrols who should be out there with the traffic cones and the walkie talkie are no shows, leaving you to fend for yourself in the cold, dealing with parents whose children rode the bus by mistake?

Yeah, it was one of those days. Which explains the two pickles, one brownie, and the entire bag of microwaved popcorn I scarfed down upon returning home.

I swear, I have gremlins in my classroom. Or maybe they’re sprites. Or little brownies. Whatever. I just know that someone is messing with me.

It started back in September, when I first moved into my classroom. I had unpacked and set out a lot of my classroom stuff, and I knew just where everything was. At this particular school, I’m only there two days out of the week. Two nonconsecutive days out of the week. On days when I’m not there, to the best of my knowledge, my room is unoccupied. Back to September. I returned one morning and discovered that my magnets on my bookcase had been moved to the file cabinet, and one of my two Etch-a-Sketches had been moved from the bookcase and placed in the wardrobe. Puzzling? Yes, but not wanting to make it into anything, I replaced all the misplaced items and went about my day.

Flash forward a week. The magnets are back on the file cabinet, items in my catch-all basket at my work station are strewn across my work station, the one Etch-a-Sketch is back in the wardrobe, and the second Etch-a-Sketch is MIA. Well, now someone has actually removed something from my classroom. Stolen, if you will. This warrants a complaint to the office, where they insist that no one uses my room in my absence, and they would know, because if someone wanted to get in there, they would need to get the key from the office. Fine. Whatever. The magnets and the remaining Etch-a-Sketch get put into my desk drawer, the work station gets picked up, and I go about my day.

Flash forward a couple of weeks. This time, upon returning to my classroom, I notice previously stacked chairs are unstacked, my work station is in disarray again, and items on the bookcase are askew. I take another trip down to the office, and they assure me again that no one is in my classroom when I’m not there (although at this point it is stressed to me that it’s not my classroom in my absence, it’s additional space to be used as the administration sees fit). I assure them that I have no problem with the space being used in my absence, but I do have a problem with people messing with my stuff. Fine.Whatever. I restore my classroom, and I go about my day.

Fast forward through a few more episodes similar to the ones above, and one where some unusual items actually mysteriously appeared in my classroom, to this past week. I return to my classroom and discover that the clock is missing off my wall. Er, the school’s wall. Gone. No where to be found. Kapoof! I trudge down to the office to inquire about my missing clock. No one knows why it would be missing, and it is unanimously agreed that my classroom may just be cursed (although my money is still on gremlins). Fine. Whatever. I go about my day without a clock.

Fast forward a couple of days (no clock yet), and what do I discover this time? A ceiling tile is missing. Agh! Okay, well, this one can be explained. We had a warm spell, which caused the snow on the roof to melt, which resulted in a rush of water to leak into the ceiling of my classroom (a leak that I reported to the school back in October), causing said water to rip through the ceiling tile and into my classroom.

But I still blame the gremlins.