The backstory: I have long like to joke about my permanent record, a notion that actually frightened me when I was a kid. Now that I’m a Middle School administrator, I actually have access to the permanent record file.* The power may have gone to my head. I was at school earlier this week, when T and I had this exchange.
Me: It’s quiet here so I may open up the permanent records and fuck with things.
T: Fix my records while you’re at it. I didn’t mean to bite that kid.
Internet, she’s taken.