We don't talk about Joe

I had my yearly doctor appointment to talk about my rapidly failing organs.  So far, everything is staying status quo: bad, but not catastrophic.  Mostly the doctor and I talked about how the new medical students are unimaginative Zoomers who say it's unfair to test them when there's more than one right answer.  Anyhoo, I was glad the doctor appointment was today because I missed what sounded like the most souk-crushing "get to know each other" activity ever.

The afternoon at Hanover was spent listening to a series of talks.  In the first, two big burly security guys talk about security (no more propped open doors! every visitor goes through the front and needs a badge! lockdown! hold! shelter!).  One of the security guys seemed a little too into showing slides of blueprints of places where attacks and fires happened, with dots marking the dead people.

Next on the agenda was staff expectations.  One of these is the new Burton ISD dictums about the dress code, which they're calling "Clever Comfy."  It is extremely stupid and demeaning, even though it's basically just "no holes in jeans or legging."

Oh, and our school theme this year is "Our Community, Our Soul," as in the Pixar movie Soul.  Because we all have passion and soul and help others help their passion like the guy in the movie did.  I don't know how; I never saw it.   I just looked it up.  The hero's name is Joe.  So the point is, am I psycho or is that an incredibly dumb theme?

Then was a lot of minutiae about how we have to email parents a newsletter and include specific verbiage ("today I will learn ____ by ____ and know I will have learned it by _____") in our lesson plans.  And turn in our lesson plans.  And all the other planning and accountability stuff that I am so very bad at.  Ms. Andrews is not happy about the micromanaging either, but I'm just lost and not feeling it.  When the P was talking about how the kids have to be "voice level zero" in the halls, I could have sworn I heard Ms. Andrews mutter, "What a Nazi!" under her breath.

My room's not ready.  Nothing's ready.  I honestly have no idea what's going to happen.