Return of the Jedi

I am surprised that it has taken this long for me to get back into gear for writing. Actually, I'm not surprised. I am an incredibly lazy being and anything that I can do to reduce the ins and outs of my day is very likely to happen. With the additional burdens of my life, writing has taken a back seat. A far back seat. The caboose of the train...

This school year finds me wearing a completely different hat. I am certified to teach biology and general science. This stems from my master's degrees in zoology (useful) and teaching (useless). Last year, our department chair/physics teacher left for another job. We could not find a replacement that met the requirements and muster-standards of the administration, so I volunteered to do the job. The school got a waiver for me to teach the courses this year and I have had to teach three totally new classes: Honors Physics, College-Prep Physics and Honors Physical Science. This means new books, new labs, new lectures and dredging into the ebon night of my brain for physics knowlede. It has been painful, but I found that I was enjoying the gig more than I would have suspected.

The kids are good. At least as good as can be expected for high-school students. No more of the bottom of the gene pool. I was actually able to get some teaching accomplished. The labs were clean and easy to set up. No smelly chemicals, no wet and muddy living things, no extended erection and deconstruction of laboratory exercises. So, I decided to make a move towards ensuring a more permanent position for myself with this schedule - I registered to take the state teacher's test for physics.

This is self-flagellation at its most severe. A 40-year old diving back into the world of standardized tests. And a test in physics. Math and more math. Biologists generally run from math as if they were Frankenstein and math was the torch-bearing peasants. But, I have two months to prepare and, in typical fashion, have already concocted my fiendish plan. Month 1 - concepts. Month 2 - mathematics. I have ordered every study guide and practice test for every physics teacher's test in the country, along with the GRE, SAT, etc. I sit in my living room with a wall of study material piled around me like the walls of Jericho. Armed with scrap paper, a calculator and an unending supply of Coke Zero, I plug away every spare moment trying to ensure that I pass the silly exam on the first try. I do not want to take it again (and PAY to take it again) for any reason.

The dogs, of course, hate me now. I am not at their beck and call every minute. They demand puppy-play time and I recite Bernoulli's Principle at them and tell them to scram. I indiscriminately toss biscuits at them to pacify their angst. They rebel by gnawing away at the exterior of my battlements. Every one of my books bears the scars of their wrath. I can't blame them - they view themselves as lords of the manor and their household staff has gone on strike. I'd be cheesed, too.

So, in March, my fate will be decided. Will I morph into a physics teacher or retain my role as biology maven? Either way, I have a job, so I'm not complaining...