5:00 - 7:40 AM

The alarm springs to life at 5, and I frantically jump out of bed, confused, disoriented, or maybe just plain annoyed. What day is it? What state am I in? Didn't I just go to sleep a couple hours ago? Why do I have a strange feeling that I should be reprimanding a teenager right now? Slam the snooze and back to bed until my cell phone alarm finishes the job a few minutes later. After a long, absentminded shower, I pour myself some Cocoa Pebbles, which I enjoy thoroughly as I check my e-mail, update my fantasy teams, and frantically finish planning for the day.

I throw a sandwich, an apple, and some yogurt in my lunch bag and hit the streets at 6:05. There's something sublime about driving with the windows down at such a comfortably dim hour, aside 10 to 15 cars on the same highway that will be gridlocked in an hour. Air that is unconditioned yet comfortable is hard to come by these days, and 6 AM is about the only shot you'll get. No NPR today; just me and the dawn. I fly over the “road humps” (apparently the Texan equivalent of speed bumps) on Skyline, roll into the empty parking lot, and take a deep breath. Today is a new day - Go Cougars.

After signing in at the front office, I head through the pristine hallways and out the back door toward the middle school trailers. It looks like the custodial staff hasn't come around to unlock the doors yet, because the back door is propped open by a yellow “Wet Floor” sign. Ahh good, this means my early-morning partner in crime has already arrived - the 6^th grade reading and writing teacher in the classroom next to mine. I pop into her room and see that she's about as awake as I am. Still, from her desk she smiles and musters a cheery “good morning!” We talk about Jerry Spinelli for a while as I grab my first cup of coffee from the pot behind her desk.

I unlock the door of room T-511 and head immediately to the thermostat to set the air conditioner at a cool 77. While I wait for my computer to load, I erase yesterday’s homework and objectives on the whiteboard and update them with today's information. “Multiplying Decimals” for periods 1 through 6 and “Unit 1 Test” in big block letters for period 7, my Pre-AP class.

On Monday, I had stolen 3 worksheets that the 8^th grade math teacher used last year with the 7^th graders as homework for adding and subtracting, dividing, and multiplying decimals. That morning I had submitted requests to the copy staff for copies of all 3 along with the Pre-AP test I was giving today. So this morning, I’m spared a trip to the copy room to frantically make copies myself. It only took 3 weeks to get a half day ahead!

First things first, I print off the lesson plans that I finalized the night before and put them in the binder on my desk. Next, I turn on my LCD projector and start putting together a PowerPoint about multiplying decimals. I breathe another sigh of relief as I remember that my Pre-AP class will only be taking a test today. So far my sweetest revelation has been how amazing test or quiz days are, and let me give you three reasons. One – tests gently remind my students of the fact that there is a day of reckoning for any unfinished homework, off-task behavior, or unasked questions. Two – I’m excited to see, after all the work that the students and I have done, how well they can succeed in putting their knowledge to paper. Three - and I can't stress this enough - I get to sit down in a silent room and not say a word.

I finish my PowerPoint and my coffee so I head next door for a refill. Back in my room, I enter some of the addition and subtraction worksheets that my students graded in class yesterday into GradeSpeed, the online grading system that my district uses. The first bell rings. 7:30. By now the students are being herded from the cafeteria to the multi-purpose room, it’s current purpose being to hold several hundred 5 to 15 year olds.

I head back to my desk and read through some of the e-mails that I didn’t get a chance to look at yesterday. I check my calendar one last time to make sure that I’m not, in fact, supposed to be at some professional development training all day or something. I maximize the GradeSpeed window and set it to the attendance page for my first period class, so I’ll be ready to submit their attendance during class.

I sit back in my chair and survey the room for a second. Mr. Camann’s math room, who would have ever thought?

The second bell rings and I head toward the door to greet my students. In the next minute, the serenity of the morning will be broken by prepubescent feet pounding up the metal ramps leading to our rooms. My first class will file past me, intent on doing anything but the simple directions my fresh PowerPoint proudly displays on the SmartBoard. By now my coffee has cooled, but I pound the rest as I reach the door. It's go time.