Well, if you're hoping to get all of those, you may be on the wrong blog, because I have no idea whether or not what I want to write about is interesting, nor do I particularly care if people read it, because writing is cathartic for me, and if I'm going to write, I may as well publish it somewhere in the event some editor is out there scanning blogs and finds mine to be ever so fascinating that s/he signs me to a 5 book deal with a 6 figure advance. Oh, yeah, and I have a lively imagination as well.
My life has just undergone a significant change. Yeah, I know when you're this age often people talk about those life changing things, but this isn't a mid-life crisis, or even a change of my making or choosing. This change was forced on me by the powers that be at my workplace. I happen to be a teacher, who has, for the last four years, poured my heart and soul into teaching 8th grade Language Arts and Social Studies. I LOVE it, LOVE the kids, and LOVE the place I work. Screeeeeeeeeeeecccchhhh! Two days before the end of the school year the brakes were applied to my LOVE fest...
"So, Mary, your job is being eliminated." "You'll be reassigned to Early Intervention Kindergarten, but if you want, you can write a letter telling us you'd prefer first grade and we'll do that."
Sucking in air, blinking (a LOT) trying not to cry, feeling sweaty....and thinking did he just F'ing say First Grade? Those are the kids who I have to teach to read, right? Those are the kids who don't "get" school yet because they've never had a full day of school all at once...right? And isn't that in another building, not here, where all my friends are? You mean........oh, wow, he just said First Grade!
I kept it together so well, I didn't even cry until after he left the room and I saw one of my co-workers in the hallway, then I started crying and I don't think I stopped for about 10 hours. Contacts the next day at school were NOT an option!
So, after grieving, and putting my fantastically understanding significant other through a night of crying torture..."And, they won't get my jokes," and "They won't even know how nerdy I am."
"They won't care if my outfit is cute, or whether I send them postcards, because they can't even read!" Yeah, it went on for some time...but I finally got over the crying part. I'm not sure about that grieving yet, maybe once I'm finally IN the new room and school has started, when it becomes real...well then I'll probably have to decide to stop whining about it, because even first graders know a whiner when they see one.
A summer that was supposed to have been relaxing became one of research, reading, cleaning, packing and moving, and now I'm ramping up for the school year, figuring out what bulletin boards I'll put up, how I'll decorate my new room, and trying to stay out of trouble, while doing an excellent job.
And you know what, I will....but of course you'll read all about that in future posts.
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