Breaker, Breaker

When I looked at the calendar for my sub gig, I figured that after years of successfully administering the state standardized test, I could step back into that role when testing day came. I was informed early on, though, that I was no longer considered qualified, which was fine, because I really don't like the job anyway. "We'll give you something else to do," the testing coordinator assured me after she thanked me for offering. 

And that's how I found myself added to the help spreadsheet as a "breaker/escort," which sounds racier than it is. Basically, my job is to watch the spreadsheet fill with all the trials and tribulations of testing, and spell any nearby teachers when they need a break. 

It's harder than it seems: I've already missed two bathroom breaks as I alternately wander the room, do a few word puzzles, answer texts from my nephew, and whatnot. I brought a book and my writing notebook, but after the previous lapses, I don't know if I should crack those open. As always, testing day has proven itself to be an inconvenient nuisance, which is not comforting in the least.

Here ends my rant: someone needs a break!