Question

Amanda! What the hell did you think that meant?... Kids are idiots. That's the kind of sh_t that would get me all worked up, seven sorts of pissed off (as I like to say), insisting administration suspend the kids because it's directed at a teacher, and well, it's a hate crime!!! I'd get all this school is full of homophobes and I'd regale my colleagues in the teacher's lounge with the details of my abuse and the administration's ineffectiveness and unwillingness to address the issue, and in the end I'd just have another story in my why-I-hate-teaching-and-teenagers arsenal.

There are too many to count at this point. In fact, that arsenal has been upgraded to why-I-hate-teaching-and-teenagers-and-their-parents...and yet when a career opportunity, like the one I applied for earlier this week, presents itself I hem and haw about it. Should I really? At this point is it worth it? Could I give up all the sun therapy (not that I'd need it if I were in a different career)?

It's crazy. To think, when we were in our mid-20s we had such dreams, such unrealistic expectations that every day would be Stand and Deliver. And we had such disdain for the jaded teachers with whom we used to smoked in the teacher's lounge (was that even in this lifetime?) who looked forward to the next vacation when the last one was over. Now I wonder how can a teacher, after a certain amount of time, be anything other than jaded and ready for vacation?

Don't get me wrong. It doesn't suck 100 percent of the time. I still have my moments. I make connections--be it with the girls in Biology who notice my Coach sunglasses and Tiffany jewelry and feel more inspired to listen to me go on about the discovery of the structure of DNA, or the socially awkward boy in A&P whose work ethic I go out of my way to praise because it will take him so much farther than being cool like most of the rest in his midst and whom I go out of my way to ask, are you considering a career in medicine? But more often I am battling the text messaging and eye rolling and the helicopter moms who are micromanaging (their kid's report of what happens in) my class to explain why Susie only has a B but deserves an A.

And so, after a really great summer--getting back in touch with you, starting our blog, getting into a good habit of writing daily; spending time with my nieces and nephews, especially S (who is freaked out about the hard little lump under her right nipple, and told me so, whom I then counseled (along with her mother) about breast buds and growing up); vacationing in Maine and Newport with W and L et. al. ; experimenting (and failing) with enough diets to remember why I have eschewed them for the past ten years; connecting with D in meaningful ways during her crazy cancer journey; and reading 11 books, thereby rejuvenating my love of them, while basking in the healing warmth of the sun--it shouldn't come as a surprise that I am wondering what I can come up with to get out of this new school year. Could I fake a nervous breakdown and would my ob-gyn sign disability papers? All right, maybe that's extreme. So, how soon can I take a sick day?....

One day remains of this healing vacation before I throw myself back in the ring. I'll be up early to do laundry before D comes over at 11. Perhaps I'll write over coffee and during the dry cycle.
Hope dinner and your night are good.

Love, Barb