When the day is done

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*This was written a few years ago, when I had a different principal, different students, a different apartment and a tighter ass (although the last part has nothing to do with the story). *Also, some names have been changed as to not embarrass anyone unnecessarily.

It makes me so happy when the day is done. I’ve worked my day of work, argued with the principal as to why Martin* should get detention again (Yes…I think leaving the classroom for 20 minutes to ask his friend from another class a Pokemon question while the class is writing is a means for losing recess…and why do I need to prove this?!). After I have stayed with Sammy* after school to find her helmet (again), put the daily plan for the next day, trade nightmare stories about my day with colleagues (“Yes…not only did I have to argue for Martin* to get detention again but my girls came back from lunch and told me the boys told them they had ‘big hairy dicks like Homer Simpson!’ I can’t make this shit up!”) and put the copies downstairs for tomorrow’s homework, I gather my stuff and realize I should have gotten a lot more work done between 3:00 and 6:00, I finally leave the building.

It makes me so happy to leave the building, walk the two blocks to the F train and pass numerous parents with their kids. I saw these children  just three hours earlier, but they get so excited, you would think I had not seen them in years.

“HI MS. G!” they yell from across the street, their eyes all lit up, waving their arms wildly and jumping up and down to make sure I notice them. I wave back and smile and hear the kid say, “Mom! That was Ms. G!” as if I was some kind of celebrity. They find it amazing I have actually left the school building, am walking on the same exact street as they are walking and am about to use the subway! The next day, inevitably, the same kid, excited as she has ever been, jumping up and down, says, “Remember when I saw you on the way to the subway yesterday?!!”

It makes me so happy when I get on that subway platform at 15th street and the wind in the tunnel starts to pick up, indicating the train is approaching. I love when the train passes and blows my hair back in all directions making me feel, if not for just a moment in time, like Felicity during the opening song of the once popular TV show about college angst.

It makes me so happy to be able to work on the crossword puzzle from AMNY, the free daily newspaper, on my way home; the one I started in the morning but my brain was not sharp enough then to remember the 7 -letter word for the lead actor in “The King and I” (Brynner).

It makes me so happy to dart up the stairs of the subway station, already taking out my keys to my apartment for the most exciting part of my day. I pass the fruit guy, packing up for the day, who offers me five bananas for a dollar. Pretty good deal but I can’t stop. I’m on a mission. I pass the little Italian restaurant and sneak a peek inside to see if the cute manager is there, trying my best to look sexy, nonchalant and inconspicuous simultaneously. I finally reach my corner. I just have to cross the street and climb up those 15 stairs, unlock Fort Knox and I’m be home free.

It makes me so happy when I finally  wrangle the first key into my hand ready to unlock the front door. I check the mail…Ooooo! YAY! A Netflix movie. I know what I’m doing tonight! But not before I do my most important and favorite part of the day. I’m almost there! I open one…two…three locks of my apartment door, trying to ignore the 85-year-old neighbor who is constantly on the phone with one of her five children yelling what sounds like distress calls in Polish. Her somewhat concerning cries are not going to stop me!

It makes me so happy when, at the end of the day, I can take off my bra and let the little ladies free.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh…………..

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