Twice a month my school has a fire drill. Two or three times a year we have lockdown drills. Everyone takes them seriously.

Once I found myself in a Tier Three lockdown drill with 25 freshmen at 1:30 in the afternoon. There were quite a few snarky girls in that class who excelled in disrespectful put-downs.

As we crouched on the floor in silence, one of the girls started to snicker. I turned around and whispered to her, "If you want to get me fired, keep laughing. If you don't, be quiet."

She stayed quiet after that. They all did.

Once we had a Tier Two lockdown that was unscheduled. We kept on teaching, only with the doors shut and locked. The students were not allowed to leave the classroom. This put everyone on edge, and the inevitable questions ensued:

"Miss. We are the first classroom by the front door. Won't we be the first ones shot?"

"Miss. What will you do if a shooter comes in?"

I've said it before here at "The Gods Are Bored." I don't know what I'd do if a shooter came in. But I hope I would call upon the Great Bored Gods and try my very best to save the lives of my students. They are my kids. And they're just kids. I would try to save them.

We can joke about the end of the world, but if you ask me, things are proceeding not with a bang, but with a whimper. The pace of these horrific mass shootings is accelerating. Our well-regulated militia is not well regulated. Maybe we ought to reconsider who gets to bear arms.