Dump Trucks and Sassiness

Every so often I say something that makes so much sense to me that I don't realize that no one else in the room has any idea WHAT I'm talking about . . . Case in point, I now have to stand up in front of all my colleagues and field questions. Simple enough. Except that when I answer the questions, according to my partners in crime, I make no sense to anyone who is not well versed in Emily-isms.

What I was trying to say: That won't work because that is not how the computer application works. You, as a teacher, use one software program and they move that information (or export) into another software program in order to use the information or data. (Except that I knew that no one would understand that)

What I said in front of sixty people: Well . . . it's kinda like your grades go into a dump truck . . . and the dump truck dumps those into SASIness . . . (SASI being a school information software program)

I thought I was making perfect sense. The crowd was smiling politely and nodding their heads softly as though they understood. I was making a great metaphor about data and a dump truck, something tangible that you could picture in your head, until . . . I heard whispering next to me. "Did she really just say dump truck and sassiness?"

"What? They get it." I whispered back. "Nooooooo, they don't." was the reply. Of course we are acting like there isn't an audience of sixty people . . . or pretending we are in a cone of silence. I look back at the person who asked the question and say "You get it? Right?" She smiles, even more politely if that were possible, and nods her head . . . yes . . . and then no . . . and the no shaking is stronger. "I have no idea what you are saying, dear." she says.

Evidently, according again to my partners in crime, I do this all the time. It made perfect sense to me.