The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People [Friday]

[notmysupervisor.livejournal.com]

Class today was not meeting in the weirdo headf Danger Shop. Class today was meeting on the beach. Because it was the Fourth of July, that was why. In case you had forgotten, perhaps Pam's stars and stripes swimming suit might ring a few bells.

"This has to be some kind of work violation," she insisted, completely ignoring the kids piling in in favor of bitching at her co-teacher. "It's totally a federal holiday. We should at least be getting, like, double overtime."

Pam, considering how bad you were at teaching, it was a miracle they paid you at all.



Cheryl was dressed similarly, if not exactly appropriately for class, and was using a tiny hand-held fan on herself. "Why are you even here?" she asked, addressing the kids. "It's the fucking fourth of July. Like, who is lame enough to come to class on a national holiday? The goddamn postal service gets the day off today, kids, and they have an oath."

So, hey, welcome to class, everyone!

"Anyway. This is the Seven Habits of...Highly Effective People." Cheryl glanced at Pam to make sure she'd gotten that right. "And every week, we're going to go over one of those supposed habits and tell you why it's stupid and you don't need it."

"Self-help books are for pussies," Pam declared. "It's a bunch of stupid sayings all stapled together. Embrace the Real You? Yeah, maybe you two can hug it out."

"Right," Cheryl agreed. "If you need a book to tell you what to do, you ain't living right."

Because these two were definitely examples you should follow.

"Anyway, first habit is 'Being Proactive.' And I guess what they mean is like, take charge of your life and get the things you want out of it."

"I mean, 'be proactive?' Okay. If you knew how to be proactive, you wouldn't need the damn book. And if you don't know, you're not gonna manage it anyway. It's like guaranteed failure."

Inspirational!

"I'm gonna level with you kids," Pam said, because she was halfway into her third Thermos of Green Russians. Because maybe she hadn't believed Cheryl that they actually had to teach today, and all. "We kinda forgot to think up something to teach, and you gotta teach something or the checks don't keep rolling in. Skinny McGee over here is rolling in fat stacks, but I'm broke as shit. So we made something up."

"Pam!" Cheryl hissed. "Don't tell them that!" Because if the kids caught wise, they might notice how unbelievably high Cheryl was, behind her sunglasses. (She'd known they had to teach, though, so. Pretty much a normal incident.) "Um, anyway," she added, addressing the class. "Be proactive by telling us your names, why you're here, and then go play on the beach."

She waved vaguely towards where they had amassed a collection of sand toys suitable for very young children -- buckets, shovels, little molds that would make a star shape....

"So, I dunno. Do something. Be proactive in actually celebrating the anniversary of us kicking some limey Brit ass. By which I mean go have fun on the beach and don't bother us. Especially me. Pammy's gotta get her tan on."

And she had a few more Thermoses of Green Russians to go, so there was that.