I am not dead. Yet. I sometimes wonder, though, if my students are conspiring to send me to an early grave.
I accepted a position with a local middle school to teach language arts. I naively believed that, hey, I taught at-risk high schoolers in Southern California for years. I'm talking literal
gangsters, for crying out loud. Yo! West Side Rivas . . . how bad could a bunch of tiny, innocent sixth graders be? Pretty bad. They are full of energy, sass, and lame jokes. Did I mention energy?
Okay, this picture doesn't make my point. This is my first class of the morning, and they're still a little sleepy. Trust me when I say that by 6th period, the children? They have awakened. Just when I'm ready for my afternoon nap.
I'm too old for this, is what I'm saying. I NEED MY NAP.
Dinner last night:
fast food, because I don't make have time to cook any more
Exactly four years ago:
Exactly five years ago: