I got to school around 9:00 this morning, got busy working, and around...oh, 10:30 or so, a painter stuck his head in and asked if it was okay that he painted the ramp. It would take about an hour to dry. "Yeah, that's fine," I said (though I now realize I should have asked Patrick if he'd need a restroom...oops). So he painted.
We got ready to go to lunch around...oh, 12:30ish. (By the way -- Patrick *likes* to dust and volunteered to come dust everything (and I mean *everything* -- he's even doing the chairs) in exchange for Subway for lunch. Nifty.)
Anyway, around 12:30, I poke my head out and the paint still looks wet. I ask a painter guy if it's okay to walk on. "Oh, eight, ten minutes it takes to dry," he says in broken English.
Dubiously, I kinda touched the ramp with a toe and checked my shoe. No paint. I have Patrick follow me, and we walk to the office.
Only to find Sixth Grade Teacher J in the office complaining that she hasn't been able to get into her classroom all day because she got here after they painted once and then they PAINTED ANOTHER COAT. This is confirmed by Fourth Grade Teacher K. No more classroom for any of us.
Meanwhile, am getting twin sixth grade girls, and probably Boy B back until his surgery, because PM miscounted children. So that takes me up to 10, plus an hour of Girl B.
And here I was hoping I was finished with the cutting and laminating for a while.
The room is looking surprisingly not-insane (though half the ceiling tiles aren't quite where they should be and there are wires hanging out of two of the walls). Of course, half of my stuff is still in the car or piled in the center...but as difficult as it was, the move proved to be a good organization tool.