The following are photos of the posters I have up on my wall in my office. Take a look.
Do you notice a problem here?
Look at them again, and then review in your mind what I do for a living. And what my last name is.
Yes, that’s right. my friend Jennie, a teacher at the school I work at as a therapist and drug and alcohol specialist, recently pointed out to me that the posters on my wall which I thought were completely innocuous and indeed maybe a little bit inspiring were, in fact, encouraging drug use.
So, yeah, apparently the thoughts going through kids’ minds as I talk to them about positive coping behaviors and self-esteem? A little different than what I was hoping for.
“So what you’re saying is that I can continue down this road of ‘heroin use’ all I want, and then when I’m done I can turn back and everything will be better again? Sick.”
“Best advice EVER!” *lights up*
At lunch one day, Jennie shared her observation with others, and Dana, another teacher, had a light bulb go off in her head. “I have the perfect poster for you!” she exclaimed.
Soon, I found this in my box.
Sometimes having the last name Weed is pretty priceless…
I’ve wanted to post pictures of the view from my desk all year because it is completely ridiculous. Here is what I look at every single day.
I realize this might not be very clear because it was taken on an iPhone (not MY iPhone, silly, I still am approximately one decade behind on technology, as this post clearly illustrated) but what you are looking at is a hallway leading to a bathroom on the right. I would label the photo but I’m too lazy to switch computers to use the ever handy MSpaint. (No Photoshop for me. Decade behind. Remember?)
All year long I have had the privilege of watching people pass my office, often with a nod of salutation, go into a bathroom that rests about ten feet outside of my office, and then throw down a deuce with sounds so loud that I worried nearby livestock might mistake it for mating call. Then they’d walk out looking at me sheepishly while I stared them down with a look that said “I know, for sure, what you just did in there. I heard every. single. detail.” Except that’s a lie. Usually I just looked down on my desk and pretended I had no idea what had just come out of their colon. Or bladder for that matter.
It was a very entertaining year.
I tried to get my friend Annemarie (the psych in the office next door) to pose as if she had just come out of the bathroom. For reasons inexplicable to me, she refused. Why would a working professional not want to be featured in a photo of a post-deuce-dropping walk of shame on the internet? I just don’t get it…
So, I decided to take one for the team and walk out of there myself for this very grainy, horrible photo.
No, this is not a ghost. This is me coming out of the bathroom. And I just went potty in there. (Just kidding. This was totally posed. Which makes the shot’s horrible quality even more mystifying.)
Goals for next year based on this post: 1. Find more awesome inspirational posters. 2. Invest in ear-plugs. 3. Get an iPhone of my very own so I can have such fantastic photo-taking abilities at my disposal at all times.
Next year’s gonna be a great year!