The woes of construction

My ceiling is leaking. I’m not sure how it started exactly. All I know is that it left a dirty, nasty mess on my floor. I don’t know exactly when it happened. I’d been away for quite some time and when I came back, my floor had these odd brown stains on it and there were a few standing puddles of water. Luckily this was my classroom and not my living room.

I tried not to freak out too much. I will admit though that when a friend told me she thought the water build up was due to a broken toilet in the men’s bathroom next to my classroom, I did, in fact, let out a huge, “what the hell?” and go running up to my room. Thankfully there was no stench. The water did look gross, but not human bodily waste gross. More like rusty water gross. Which is, of course, still yucky, especially when it’s gathered in little pools around my room, but easier to take than pools of pooh filled water.

School hadn’t even started yet and despite all the construction going on in our building (which is what caused the lovely flood in the first place), I was sure someone would find the time to clean up my floor.

When I returned for the mandatory teachers’ meetings before the first day of school and the floor was not only still stained, but the hole in the ceiling obviously re-opened and streaming into a trash can strategically placed underneath it, I got a bit more concerned. Especially since there was already another trash can full of water sitting in my room that no one had bothered to dump. Plus the air wasn’t back on yet, so it was about 100 degrees in my room.

Despite my worry I realized there was nothing I could do, so I went home, just hoping it would be fixed the next day. While I could deal with a dirty floor (I said deal, not like), even a little harmless change like a stained floor can distract kids for hours. And since they’d already be distracted with the start of school, I kept my fingers crossed.

Amazingly my floor was spotless when I showed up for the first day of classes. I hurried over to glance up at the missing ceiling tile and it appeared all had been fixed. No drips. God bless the custodians and construction workers. I rushed to arrange my desks and get the rest of my room in order.

All was good until about half way through first period. I went to grab something out of my cabinet and felt something wet plop on top of my head. My pipe had sprung a leak again. As the day wore on the water started dripping faster. I tried to place a trash can under it, but the water seemed to be coming from a couple of places, so my floor got wet. And so did I. For some reason I kept forgetting my ceiling was dripping. When I walked over to my cabinet, I got wet. A few drops even went right down the back of my shirt. Yuck!

I went in today not knowing what I’d find. The water had been dried, however, no one bothered to take a mop to it, so I have dried light brown stains on my floor. Not the end of the world, but considering how dirty the place is with construction residue, it probably won’t get cleaned until next summer. The leak, however, appeared to be plugged up. First period went by with no water. Second period was progressing nicely. A repairman came in to check on my leak and when confronted by a class of 22 kids sitting in a circle all looking at him, he got a bit nervous. When I told him the leak was better, he seemed relieved and scurried off, promising to come back at the end of the day. I doubted I’d ever see him again.

He was true to his word though. As soon as the kids were gone, he came back. He poked around up in my ceiling and managed to find the source of the leak (and got himself quite wet in the process). Next think I knew I had a trash can in the middle of my floor soaking up water again. He brought in a plumber who poked around for a bit and then went up on the roof to “check things out.”

I’m not sure what he found. He never came back. I just hope tomorrow I’ll have a dry floor and be able to use my trash can. I’m not getting my hopes up though.

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Filed under bad days, life as a teacher, pet peeves, ramblings, what makes me me

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