The following is a conversation that took place between myself and our pastor (hereafter referred to as "Father") when I signed my contract last week. Parenthetical remarks were imagined before, during or after said conversation.
Father: Hi, how are you?
Miss M: (Can't remember my name, can you?) Good, you?
Father: Fine. Come in and sit down. Make sure you close the door so it stays cool in here.
Miss M: (Principal turned the office AC on for you, huh? You should come down to my room for a few minutes and see how you like the heat.)
Father: So, how many kids do you have this year?
Miss M: Nineteen. (Thank God.)
Father: Oh. Wow. That's not good.
Miss M: Yeah, I know. (What the hell are you talking about? It's freaking incredible!) Well, I'm possibly getting one more next week. (As soon as that lazy mother gets her ass in gear and registers her damn child for school, which started a week ago...)
Father: Well, that's good.
Miss M: Yes it is. (No it's not. It means I have to rearrange my desks. It means I gave all my children numbers according to their name so that everyone is alphabetical, and now I'm going to have one child out of whack. It means this student has missed every single blessed back-to-school activity, including rules, routines and procedures, and I'm going to have to catch him up on all of it in my "spare time." It means this parent is going to miss Back To School night, and therefore, miss all of the Important Information that I give out.)
Father: Well, here's your contract. You can look it over... check everything out.
Miss M: Okay. (Forget looking it over. I'm going straight to the bottom line to see how much I'm going to make this year.)
Father: As you know, your salary increase was determined by the Archdiocese.
Miss M: (Look at that... This is my 5th year in the Catholic School system and my salary is $300 less than I made my first year at the charter school...)
Father: Are you teaching CCD again this year?
Miss M: Yes I am.
Father: Oh, good. That's a great experience.
Miss M: It sure is. (It'd be better if I got paid for it. And I just love how "well-behaved" the kids are after spending an entire day in their school before coming to our school for an extra hour of learning.)
Father: Well, I won't keep you. See you later.
Miss M: Thank you, Father. (SIGH.)
Seriously. I love my job passionately, but sometimes the administration can be completely clueless.