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I thought about starting the Snickerdoodles for tomorrow tonight, so they can chill overnight and be easy to roll tomorrow, but I'm too tired. Museum party is tomorrow, and I'm actually REALLY REALLY looking forward to it and I have no idea why. Maybe I just like things that have lots of food.
I'm all crabby still. I feel bad for Jason because he keeps trying to make me laugh and I'm not.
I had nightmares about having to go back and teach in the Rox last night. I know it's because I'm freaked out about finding a job.
But then this morning I got to work and there's this display of artwork these kids are doing with this summer camp thing, I think Joe Wos was teaching them (because it was very much his style); anyway one of the names on the projects was of The One Kid I Told I Was Leaving the Rox. (And it has to be her because it's not at all a common name). And I asked if the kids were actually COMING today and they COULD but she never showed up. And I thought about maybe leaving her a note but then thought that might be construed as weird. Anyway, so I was thinking about her all day and I knew that if she did see me she might cry and that would make ME cry and I felt like crying just thinking about it. This girl was in my absolutely horrible 6th grade class, the one that was my final straw that I left almost immediately after; she had just moved so was already the new kid, but she made a bad first impression by telling the rest of her class that they were acting like Kindergarteners, so the rest of the class took it out on her from then on. She was getting seriously bullied by this group of snobby girls, and I felt SOOOO frustrated as a teacher, because everything they did was not OUTRIGHT BREAKING any RULES, there was nothing I could GET them for, but I could still see it happening and it was HORRIBLE, it was exactly WHY middle school is the worst time of anybody's life. So the best I could do was write this girl an encouraging note, saying I understood what she was going through and could only tell her to keep being a great kid because they couldn't get at her forever and she was going to turn out so much better and whatnot. She was very grateful. So when I finally had my last breakdown she was sitting with me in that next room because SHE didn't want to go back with her awful class either, and she was telling me how horrible it was because the last great teacher she'd had whom her class was horrible to and made cry had left her school after that; and of course I felt SO guilty, and said I have to tell you then that my last day is Monday, which made us both cry more and whatnot, but you know. Anyway, that's why I do not want to teach middle school for quite a long time; I think I'm still too tender from my own middle school wounds-- I'm too young. At least at heart. And in looks, too, which I suppose I will feel grateful for someday.
I'm all crabby still. I feel bad for Jason because he keeps trying to make me laugh and I'm not.
I had nightmares about having to go back and teach in the Rox last night. I know it's because I'm freaked out about finding a job.
But then this morning I got to work and there's this display of artwork these kids are doing with this summer camp thing, I think Joe Wos was teaching them (because it was very much his style); anyway one of the names on the projects was of The One Kid I Told I Was Leaving the Rox. (And it has to be her because it's not at all a common name). And I asked if the kids were actually COMING today and they COULD but she never showed up. And I thought about maybe leaving her a note but then thought that might be construed as weird. Anyway, so I was thinking about her all day and I knew that if she did see me she might cry and that would make ME cry and I felt like crying just thinking about it. This girl was in my absolutely horrible 6th grade class, the one that was my final straw that I left almost immediately after; she had just moved so was already the new kid, but she made a bad first impression by telling the rest of her class that they were acting like Kindergarteners, so the rest of the class took it out on her from then on. She was getting seriously bullied by this group of snobby girls, and I felt SOOOO frustrated as a teacher, because everything they did was not OUTRIGHT BREAKING any RULES, there was nothing I could GET them for, but I could still see it happening and it was HORRIBLE, it was exactly WHY middle school is the worst time of anybody's life. So the best I could do was write this girl an encouraging note, saying I understood what she was going through and could only tell her to keep being a great kid because they couldn't get at her forever and she was going to turn out so much better and whatnot. She was very grateful. So when I finally had my last breakdown she was sitting with me in that next room because SHE didn't want to go back with her awful class either, and she was telling me how horrible it was because the last great teacher she'd had whom her class was horrible to and made cry had left her school after that; and of course I felt SO guilty, and said I have to tell you then that my last day is Monday, which made us both cry more and whatnot, but you know. Anyway, that's why I do not want to teach middle school for quite a long time; I think I'm still too tender from my own middle school wounds-- I'm too young. At least at heart. And in looks, too, which I suppose I will feel grateful for someday.
