And Here It Comes
Today was the second to last Tuesday before spring break . . . And spring break marks the end of my 10 week lead teach extravaganza, where I've been in charge of 80% of my mentor teacher's work load. That means I plan three hours of world history and teach an hour of sociology. It means I have to negotiate apathetic freshmen, loud honors freshmen, and loud and sometimes bewildered English Language Learners. Oh, and I can't forget the seniors, who have been suffering from senioritis all year.
It's winding down. After lead teach ends, I'll have a week vacation, and then I'll have three-four weeks getting my affairs in order. I'll work on my teaching portfolio, attend job fairs, write some papers for Michigan State, apply to jobs, and get certified.
It's finally all coming to a head. I've been working at this whole "adulthood" thing since graduating from college back in 2008. It's only partially worked out for me. And by "partially", I mean not really much at all. Because I've been living at home and have been attending classes and have been dependent. I mean, I essentially feel like I'm 14. I haven't changed too much since then.
I'm so ready to get going on grown up-dom. I freak out about not getting a job, but I'm trying to remain kind of positive that something will work out. How badly do I want to move to San Francisco, Portland, or Seattle? Pretty damn bad. Hell, I'll settle for just about anywhere that's not here. Where I can go and get my own apartment, pay my own bills, make my own living. Live a new and exciting life because, I gotta tell you, what I have now isn't anything to be jealous of.
I feel like I have been recently been coming into my own. Weird internal revelations that have actually manifested themselves in my dreams. But I think I'm more myself than I've ever been, so that's a good place to kind of motivate me to move forward and do what needs to be done to be what I want to be. And to be around the people I want to be around.
In the meantime, I'm watching women's basketball on ESPN2. It probably sounds horrible to say, but I hate women's basketball. They just aren't graceful like the men. They wind up on the floor more often than not. (Seriously, if you ever watch, count how many times a woman ends up on the ground.) But it's March and the Madness must be served . . . somehow.
It's winding down. After lead teach ends, I'll have a week vacation, and then I'll have three-four weeks getting my affairs in order. I'll work on my teaching portfolio, attend job fairs, write some papers for Michigan State, apply to jobs, and get certified.
It's finally all coming to a head. I've been working at this whole "adulthood" thing since graduating from college back in 2008. It's only partially worked out for me. And by "partially", I mean not really much at all. Because I've been living at home and have been attending classes and have been dependent. I mean, I essentially feel like I'm 14. I haven't changed too much since then.
I'm so ready to get going on grown up-dom. I freak out about not getting a job, but I'm trying to remain kind of positive that something will work out. How badly do I want to move to San Francisco, Portland, or Seattle? Pretty damn bad. Hell, I'll settle for just about anywhere that's not here. Where I can go and get my own apartment, pay my own bills, make my own living. Live a new and exciting life because, I gotta tell you, what I have now isn't anything to be jealous of.
I feel like I have been recently been coming into my own. Weird internal revelations that have actually manifested themselves in my dreams. But I think I'm more myself than I've ever been, so that's a good place to kind of motivate me to move forward and do what needs to be done to be what I want to be. And to be around the people I want to be around.
In the meantime, I'm watching women's basketball on ESPN2. It probably sounds horrible to say, but I hate women's basketball. They just aren't graceful like the men. They wind up on the floor more often than not. (Seriously, if you ever watch, count how many times a woman ends up on the ground.) But it's March and the Madness must be served . . . somehow.