for various reasons i have come to have a secret book stash behind my desk. tree and i had clandestine trashy book swaps, and somehow i forgot to take these books home so they are now nestled spines against the wall in the shelf behind my desk.
since we're in the middle of our state testing our instructional assistants are spending all day in the hallways behind huge signs that say, "TESTING! SHHH!", reminding us to be quiet, and, well, that's about it. so i've started spreading the word about my secret stash so they'll have something to occupy them while their sitting. other teachers who have to spend hours just watching one child take a test (because the child can't take the test in the room with his peers) have also begun to raid the stash.
i'm not proud of owning these books. none of them are high-class literature. i own them because checking them out of the library would go on my permanent library record. plus, the girls at borders are not nearly as snotty about book select as the librarians. i like the librarians to see my checking out quality. these books, are far from quality.
yet, almost like a secret chocolate drawer, my secret stash seems to be serving its own stress-relieving purpose.