Lending a helping hand every other day at a media center can prove interesting. Living and breathing books can provide interesting experiences. And unnaturally harsh lessons.
Example, this morning I had the pleasure of delivering reading-time material to our school's health class. I never much cared for health. I knew about 98% of what we learned before I took the class and filling out diagrams on sexual organs was never very entertaining. Who finds that entertaining?
So I'm struggling to open the door while hefting about 5 pounds of paper in one arm, and upon opening the door, I come face-to-face with excessive blood, frantic people, and lady parts turning to hamburger on a bright T.V screen. I'd walked in on the birthing video. Not that I'm appreciative of all the shit we women go through to bring life into the world (guys, you can hardly pass a kidney stone. Try pushing a coconut out your unattractive parts), but I don't do well with things that ooze. Or screech. Or gaping slits from a knife. At least not in people. I do fine with animals. After watching momma doggies eat their new puppies' placentas, not a whole lot gags you about animals anymore--
but point aside,
It was really, really distressing and I dropped those magazines like an old decomposing body on the desk and GTF-bailed out of there.
Never. Ever. Ever. EVER. Did I say never ever? NEVER EVER AGAIN.
OH GOD NO.
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