what the fuck.
I don't have students anymore. I don't know what to do with myself. I spent the whole morning trying not to cry, and now I have to pack to go someplace, except I don't know what that place is.
Hey, Crochester, how 'bout you post your jobs before I kill myself to make the anxiety go away.
I just need something to happen so I can feel summer, so I can look forward to summer. The kids piled out the door today after hugs for everyone (freshman hug so tight, it's just great) but they all had a summer ahead of them. I just have a mess.
And I have to say goodbye to Mr. O tomorrow, and I don't want to. Again, what the fuck. This year was supposed to be a blip on my map, but here I am more sure about me-as-a-high-school-teacher than I've ever been about anything in my life, here I am wanting to stay in this city but I might not even get to. Two interviews on Thursday, one for next year, one for summer. Two in a day, two in a day. I hope I'm not a sweaty mess.
Same shit, different outfit.
1 comment:
Jean Marie. You're going to kill them in the interviews, and then the next few months will quickly find their shape, and then you will be fine. And drinking beer margaritas with me out back.
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