Nah. Trying to moderate a little better this time.

Physically and emotionally draining.

They’re moderate to severely autistic. Half of them can’t even understand a punishment like timeout is because they did something wrong.

There isn’t really anything you can do. I don’t understand why most of them are even in school yet.

Thanks, Boscov.

Don’t know if things will improve, but at least school is out after this week until new years. No school means no work means I get a break.

I wish I had somewhere to record though. I’m having to wait until next week when the renovations are done before I can get back to work on your present.

Not really, no.

One of the kids flipped right-the-hay-out and threw a belligerent tantrum. Another one wouldn’t follow directions during recess and I had to sit inside with him while he threw a less violent, but much louder tantrum. I had to hold two foals down while we were reading to them because they wouldn’t sit still. Oh, and one of the colts bit me.

Twice.

All the while the one filly in the class keeps screaming every few minutes and asking, “You wanna go poddy?”

And there’s a slice-of-life summery for a special education aid.

Oh. And I found out elementary school doesn’t get out early at all this week. Sweetie wasn’t pleased to hear that after I’d already told her otherwise.

So… Drinking again.

I haven’t, no.

Shanking? Really? Am I in a jelly doughnut jailyard taking out competition?

I’d like to think I’m somewhat familiar with internet slang…

Not really. I thought one guy did once, but it turned out his motive was different. He wanted me to owe him to help gather information.

It was… more subtle than it sounds.

You wake with a start and a snort, flinging yourself forward in a fit of shock when you don’t recognize where you are. Your three companions turn to you and stare. You blink from the light while your eyes adjust. It’s morning already. Evidently you not only slept through your shift, you slept for twelve hours. It’s 8 AM.

You eat something light while everpony packs their things together. You try to catch what the others are talking about, but you’re still too drowsy to make anything out.

Before all of you can move, you need to decide what to do with your stuff. Either you carry one bag and Twist carries two. Twist carries both of your bags plus her own. Or you leave a bag or two behind. And if you do, which ones?

This shouldn’t be too hard. Decisions will only get tougher as the day goes on.

Yeah sure go ahead.

This week is killing me…

Only experience I have with a skateboard is trying to pick up speed on one and hitting a curb, launching my flank into the ground.

Wasn’t allowed to try again. Filly was worried I’d break it.

Is that how you spell it?

Huh.

Never really thought about it.

Not sure what you mean.

White knight makes me think of law enforcement, and while I’ve been at odds with them before, I’m not now.

Nice guy makes me think of somepony like Fancy Pants. It could be a guard too, I guess.

I think the term “deal with” is what trips me up the most, though.

Neither of us own a bunk bed.

Interesting wording of your question, though.

If there can be dimensions where I’m a seapony, then your alternate selves can have varying degrees of awesome.

Of course if you’re doubting yourself, I could be nice and considerate to you. But you’re a Gilda. I figured you wouldn’t want that.

You can roll with the punches, right?

No, I can’t really co-

Aren’t doughnut holes just rolled up into a ball? I don’t think it’s actually where the center was punched out.

…

Though I suppose you may or may not have been implying that…