Obviously today was my first day back at work, which I’d been dreading a little bit for a long time. I like the people I work with, and I like the place I work. I don’t like the idea that I’m spending 7 hours a day away from O, and on top of that, I wasn’t quite sure how I would handle the pumping thing. My classroom is essentially in the same room as two other people, separated only by a thin wall that doesn’t entirely close off the room. My back wall is a window, which means there is about an inch gap between my side wall and the window, which also means that I can hear, loud and clear, everything that goes on in the rooms to either side of me. This also means that I had to opt out of the fancy electric pump, because I sincerely doubt that the teachers to my left and right want to try to talk about grammar with kids over the “OOOOOOOSA OOOOOOOOOSA OOOOOOOOOSA OOOOOOOOOSA” of me milking myself. So I took the hand pump.
I decided I was not a fan of using the bathroom. It was a faculty day today, but starting tomorrow, I have to share that bathroom with a bunch of middle and high schoolers. Even with the silent hand pump, I am not interested in attempting to pump while teenage girls are being all angsty. Since I have my room to myself, I opted to shut the door and lock it and just pump in there. Easy peasy. Nice and private and quiet. Until someone needed something.
I heard the key in my lock and saw the doorknob turn and was able to whip the hand pump off (spraying drops of milk all over my keyboard–lovely) and shove my boob back into my shirt before the administrative assistant walked in. Her eyes got huge and she looked totally embarrassed as she gave me a piece of paper that obviously couldn’t have waited until the door was open. I shut the door again. Five minutes later, someone else barged in with another piece of paper that needed my immediate attention. The second person knocked, but didn’t wait for me to give the okay before she unlocked the door and came in. Again, milk flying, tatas exposed, shocked face. Nothing like going home at the end of the day knowing that two more people in the world have seen your boobs. Total downer. I mean come on, WE’RE NOT IN COLLEGE ANYMORE, am I right?
Thankfully, these were both grown women. I need to figure out a system before tomorrow, when teenage boys will be the ones kicking in my classroom door requiring immediate attention. I am trying to decide between a sign on the door and a tip jar. This ain’t a free show.