I have been listening to Final Fantasy’s remix of Your Ex-Lover is Dead again, and other nostalgic music that somehow hasn’t gotten old.

I’m watching the scenery fill up with snow. This time of year always stresses me out. I hate shopping and I hate the materialistic side of Christmas. As glad as I am that I am couch-surfing around Ypsi and not alone in Detroit for break, it’s a little stressful to not have a home base where I can just have my own bed and my own shower, and a place to just regroup. I’m watching the beautiful expanse of break slowly fill up with plans and already I can feel that fateful Monday morning creeping up on me.

I was looking forward to some weeks where I don’t have to think about my job at all. I have been idly looking at job prospects, and trying to decide if – or really when – I am going to give up on this stupid school, and daydreaming about getting a job in Ann Arbor where things are low-key, and I never screamed at any children, and where there are tons of paper for kids to make beautiful creative things, and where the kids call me by my first name and don’t get written up for subordination, and kids could learn instead of shivering in coats when it is too cold and getting nosebleeds when it is too hot.

On the other hand maybe these are some weeks where I can and should think about my job. I left behind all these kids who were having meltdowns – meltdowns in every different form – because the holidays are just a time where they are dealing with family members who have recently been unemployed or shot or in prison or divorced. I often feel less than prepared to face my kids in the classroom, all 250 of them in varying chaotic groupings, but I am a thousand times more unprepared to face what is going on in their lives outside of my classroom. I need this time to prepare myself and figure out how to come back on the 5th and be a really good teacher and a really good human being, for these last 4 weeks before I get another group of 250 to build a relationship with for the rest of the year.

I guess what I’m saying is that I already miss my students, at least the individuals even if I am not looking forward to facing them all in full force. I can whine and cry and bash my head on my desk, and I can look wistfully at the (schools) on the greener side of the hill, but I can’t deny that this is exactly where I belong, and what I want to be doing.

But wow, it is really good to stay up, and still get a good night’s sleep, and drink an entire beer… more than one entire beer… at a time, and enjoy daylight with a cup of coffee.


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