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I call this meeting to order

November 5, 2006

I sit down at the table in the warmest room in the school. The small gathering of various adults calmly discuss City policy and a strategic plan to guide the school for the future. The parents and teachers are talking and the topic comes up about how “anal” someone is and how proud they are that when they go up to their 1st graders room all their shoes are lined up neatly. She comments that she thinks to herself, “Ahhh. Perfect. I love you!” The others talk about how many of them share the same desires to keep things neat, clean and orderly. Someone comments that many of them there are “Type A” personalities and like things in order, too. I like to think of myself a highly organized person who mostly has good intentions but has the drive of a 15 year old pot smoker drop-out. Many of them go on and on about what they obsess over in their homes. What has to be perfectly in its place and how order makes them happy. I listen of a while and then say somewhat softly, “No offense, but none of you are ever invited over to my house.”

They laugh. I laugh. Aren’t I so fucking cute? As the meeting wears on and on I realize that truer words were never spoken. They never will be invited to my home. Unless they want to mop my floor while I take a nap.

This is NOT me.

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