Some ramblings.
This week I had my 30-week summative evaluation with my principal. She wrote that I'm an exemplary first year teacher. I don't quite feel like I am. Sometimes I stumble over history facts. Sometimes I don't quite have the patience I know I need. Sometimes I mispronounce rhetorical devices. Sometimes I'm downright disorganized. Sometimes I'm overwhelmed. Somehow, though, I guess I look like I know what I'm doing. I guess that counts for something.
It's been a pretty incredible first year. I can't believe it's already almost over. If the rest of my life goes by this quickly, I will be dead tomorrow. Well, it will feel that way...
I'm all mixed up when it comes to love. I have this tendency to be in love with people I can't be with. I guess it's not that uncommon or strange. Hello, Romeo and Juliet...
But it's not quite that cliche. It's for real. And it sucks.
23 is a strange age, I think. In a lot of ways I see myself looking forward to and preparing for the future. I have started my career. I'm making investments. I'm looking at real estate. And then there are these little things I'm noticing, like this sweater I bought that screams professional 30-something.
But then I realize that I am pretty freaking young, and I buy a silky halter top and make plans to get drunk and go clubbing where I rub up on some attractive Puerto Rican with great hips and a gorgeous smile.
23 is a paradox.
23: becoming professional and behaving badly.
I've been really depressed lately. It's been hard to put my finger on. I believe it has something to do with the time of year. May used to be great, but over the past few years, I've come to sort of subconsciously loathe the month. My Dad died May 26. Jason died May 28. I don't know what I'm dreading, exactly, as those days approach. Just the thought "7 years today..." and "1 year today...." makes those situations too much of a reality. Or too much of a fucking holiday.
eh, I've never liked anniversaries.
As summer approaches, though, I feel the weight slowly coming off my shoulders. The warm air is waking up my lungs, waking up my soul. I feel that happening, quite literally. And I'm excited.
It's been a pretty incredible first year. I can't believe it's already almost over. If the rest of my life goes by this quickly, I will be dead tomorrow. Well, it will feel that way...
I'm all mixed up when it comes to love. I have this tendency to be in love with people I can't be with. I guess it's not that uncommon or strange. Hello, Romeo and Juliet...
But it's not quite that cliche. It's for real. And it sucks.
23 is a strange age, I think. In a lot of ways I see myself looking forward to and preparing for the future. I have started my career. I'm making investments. I'm looking at real estate. And then there are these little things I'm noticing, like this sweater I bought that screams professional 30-something.
But then I realize that I am pretty freaking young, and I buy a silky halter top and make plans to get drunk and go clubbing where I rub up on some attractive Puerto Rican with great hips and a gorgeous smile.
23 is a paradox.
23: becoming professional and behaving badly.
I've been really depressed lately. It's been hard to put my finger on. I believe it has something to do with the time of year. May used to be great, but over the past few years, I've come to sort of subconsciously loathe the month. My Dad died May 26. Jason died May 28. I don't know what I'm dreading, exactly, as those days approach. Just the thought "7 years today..." and "1 year today...." makes those situations too much of a reality. Or too much of a fucking holiday.
eh, I've never liked anniversaries.
As summer approaches, though, I feel the weight slowly coming off my shoulders. The warm air is waking up my lungs, waking up my soul. I feel that happening, quite literally. And I'm excited.