Overheard at Work, vol. LVII

"You're so cute. I like your face."--a teen girl to an 8 year old boy.

"I feel like I never go to the bathroom anymore."--my coworker, resigning herself to life at our job.

"Can someone come over here and entertain me?"--a teen girl, to a room full of her friends.

This week, we lost a very important member of our staff family, as our coworker succumbed to a swift illness on Thursday morning. 

KC was the epitome of a firecracker, super dedicated to her work and her coworkers, and unbelievably caring to everyone around her, despite her brash exterior.

Last winter, when I co-hosted the holiday party for staff, we gave everyone a superlative award, and choosing which award to give KC was the easiest decision we made: Bark is Worse Than Her Bite. 

She was beyond tickled and thrilled to receive it and kept it in a frame at the front desk. 

Even in her final weeks, she had enough balls to flirt with the beautiful male nurse assigned to her and the generosity to ask how we were all doing.

KC was fierce, loud, abrasive, hilarious, a true individual, and full of piss and vinegar. 

Her hair and nails were always just so. 

She listened to Motown and Rock n Roll and could never quite figure out how her email worked. She did the work of about 2 1/2 people and kept our building running as smoothly as possible, without any of us even knowing. 

But most importantly, she loved our kids, wanted only to keep them safe, and had a great love of life. 

There will never be another like her. We will never forget her, and work will never be the same without her.

Overheard at Work, vol. LVI

Finally feeling slightly on top of things at work...On top of things, mind you.Not ahead of them...which my supervisor says is pretty darn good.

13 year old, to me: You have a boyfriend, not a husband?
Me: I have no one.
Her: You have us!

Me, to middle schoolers: What are you guys doing?
12 year old: Walking and talking and living our lives!

Me: How old are you?
Alumna: 20.
Me: What? What do you do?
Alumna: I'm in beauty school. Learning how to do weave--I mean, hair!

9 year old, to a middle schooler on crutches: Are those real?

11 year old, about her crush: I don't think he's gone through puberty yet.
Me: Oh, has his voice changed?
Her: No, his voice is really high.
Me: You haven't gone through puberty yet either!
Her: How do you know? Wait, what's puberty? Is that when you get your period and boobs?

Colleague: Do you always talk this much?
11 year old: Yes! My mother said I used to talk so much when I was a baby, she'd put a diaper over my head. JK. That's a false story.

Overheard at Work, vol. LV

I realized this week that there are three kinds of busy days at my job.

1. The day that is packed to the minute with meetings. Example, Arrive at work at 11:00 AM, meeting at 11: 30, meeting at 12:30, interview at 2 PM, homework help at 3:30, onboarding at 4:30, run program at 5:30, leave at 7 PM.

2. The day that is busy because there are 300 kids in the building and I run all over the place all day.

3. The day that is unexpectedly busy, so that every time I sit down, I am called to tend to a kid or a coverage issue or a delivery or an emergency.

And even though this week was only 4 days long, it feels like about 4 in the morning and that it should be Saturday.

This fall is kicking my ass.

On Wednesday, during homework help, I sat down at a table of 3rd and 4th graders, who immediately asked me, "Who are you voting for?" I didn't really feel comfortable telling them, since I wasn't sure what their parents were stuffing down their throats, but I was encouraged when one of them yelled, "OBAMA!" and another very seriously said, "I'm voting for Romney 0%." Finally, one very sagely announced, "Romney doesn't like immigrants, so he doesn't like our families."

"Look! It slides."--my coworker, trying desperately to prove that her phone is "hip."

"I'm probably gonna marry a poet,"--11 year old, as we went from discussing attending her first dance to discovering boys to marriage.

"Hi Brandon!...Hi...whatever your name is."--8-year-old greeting my coworker with the wrong name but then really thinking about it and giving up.

"My future beard starts right here!"--13 year old, announcing his serious facial hair plans.