Afternoon meeting #SOL16

Dread fills my limbs, and I grow more and more sluggish traveling down the endless hallway toward the library doors.  Slowly, my fingers grasp the cold handle to pull the door open.  The putrid aroma of wasted time fills my lungs as I step inside.

I half-heartedly find an empty seat, lay my manual on the table, and exhale.  Around me, zombie like educators fill the chairs with comatose expressions.

Slowly and apologetically my assistant principal rises and steps in front of our gathered, stunned, and lifeless group.  Sighs escape several exasperated mouths.

We realize it isn't her fault.

She is only the chosen one who has to deliver our dreaded STAAR training.