Time to get my 24 classroom hours to maintain my license, so I did what I allus do, forked over the money to Big Bucks Bill Gray, a not especially bright man who got incredibly lucky with his real estate school.
These biennial sessions are as close as I care to be to Abu Graib. Harrassed by dolts wielding your professional future. Most teachers are from the "I am wonderful and I can't wait to tell you all about it" method of instruction. It can't be easy standing for three hours in front of fifteen people who can't wait for Mickey's big hand to get a move on.
Cool Bonus! My old bud JoAnne, from when I was one of Ida's Girls, shared two classes with me. Damn it was fun to see her. She picked right up on insulting me as if she had just been waiting to bump into me some place. She's as feisty and mischevious as ever. Lucky she didn't get us booted. Seeing her made me realize I hadn't had lunch with Kilometers for quite a while, so we exchanged e-mails, I thought. Claims he didn't get my last confirmation which is why I got to drive down to Inverness, snark at Suzie, and read an entire Smithsonian magazine waiting for him to show. Place was preternaturally quiet, eerie. My memories are of an office with so much noise and hubub it was hard to get much work done. The fact that most of that noise was coming from my office does not dissuade.
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3 comments:
What No mention of my sack lunches???
It's not my fault Speakeasy has identified you as a Spammer and dumps all your e-mails into the junk file. It's also not my fault that when I cancelled on you on Friday, I expected a week of silence as punishment.
Since when does Inverness have Smithsonian magazines? and how come I don't get invited to lunch?
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