It's Friday afternoon, and the final school bell has rung. There is a delightful silence that descends upon the school at this time, a moment of calm that happens but once a week. All teachers know this moment that should be savored as the weekend unfurls before you. Yes, very soon there will be traffic to contend with, and Toronto traffic at that. But now, in this brief moment of serenity, I'm sitting in an empty classroom, ignoring the scattered papers on the floor, or the pencils that were not put away, or the board game that a group of eight year-olds attempted to put away, but did so in such a precarious manner that it requires my attention. All I hear is the hum of the fan and my fingers tapping on the keyboard. The morning message has been scrawled on the wall, and my dayplans are but a "print" command away. This, dear readers, is my favorite time of the week; the first true deep breaths of a Friday afternoon.