Made a “The hardest job you’ll ever stream” joke to yourself during an online faculty meeting and then had to claim WiFi issues because you couldn’t stop giggling.

Nodded politely while listening to two diametrically opposed opinions on the closure of schools in a virtual PTA meeting, then was not asked what you think.

Accepted unsolicited feedback on the state of your hairstyle (“Maybe buy a dye-at-home kit, Miss?”).

Learned how to text snarky asides to teacher friends on your phone without breaking eye contact in a Zoom classroom.

Initiated a round of Heads Up, Seven Up, so your students wouldn’t see your crusty old sweatpants when you had to get up to pee.

Said “Zoom adds 35 pounds!” without irony.

Discovered that it’s harder to hide crying in front of your students when you can’t stand in the back of the room.

Realized that not even a pandemic is not going to motivate you to bury the hatchet with the colleague who always left the copier jammed.

Received an email from the administration telling you that these are “unprecedented times” but "we are all in it together, followed immediately by an email encouraging you to keep “productivity high” for your end of the year evaluations.

Gained a deeper understanding of your town’s geography from driving to three birthday parades a day.

Allowed briefly back into your classroom where you discovered that no, you did not throw out the spreadable cheese you kept in your desk at the end of March, after all.

Kept yourself from calculating whether the amount of the pay cut your boss’s boss’s boss has agreed to take is still more than your regular salary.

Posted a note on your laptop that reads, THEY CAN SEE YOU. DO NOT PICK YOUR NOSE.

Streamed a student’s Important Life Event online with the sound off, remembering to send the “Like” reaction every fifteen minutes-ish.

Strongly suspected the family dog now understands basic algebraic equations.

Developed many ideas for how your students’ families can improve their living room décor, despite receiving no invitations to share those ideas.

During a conference with one of your children’s teachers, ended up drinking wine and blearily discussing all of the pre-coronavirus things you both miss instead of child’s social studies grade.

Somehow still ended up grading past midnight.

Cried at your students’ virtual graduation, then cried because you couldn’t hug your students as they graduated, and then felt perhaps the slightest twinge of relief that you didn’t actually have to go to a graduation. Then ate a brownie. Then started planning for next fall.