Fighting Dragons

So apparently next week is August and that's weird. That means...I need to get my classroom ready...which means I need to go in and actually check it out. This morning, as I was drinking coffee and looking at myself in the mirror, I started to freak out about it a little bit. I just don't look like a teacher. I don't feel like a teacher. I don't know if I'm ready to actually take on a classroom full of students. I don't know if I can handle all the problems and handle them with finnesse. It's very frightening. I don't think people get it. When most people start jobs, they walk in on the first day, make some friends, find a desk and then begin. It's not like that for teachers. It's not so easy. All these kids looking at you, expecting you to know all the answers. It makes being a banker or an accountant look so nice. Not that those people have no stress. I realize they do. I don't think I would like to be in their shoes. I know I wouldn't. But it seems so...I don't know. I can't find the words without being offensive. Whatever. Moral of the story is that I'm scared. I'm not ready. My classroom is covered with staples and sticky goo stuff. My books aren't organized, my plans aren't made, I don't even have my name tags laminated. It's coming so quickly...this whole growing up thing and I've decided I want to go back to college...where my classes are picked for me and my friends are made by sitting on a balconey at midnight.

What does it even mean to be an adult? I'm not sure I get it. I wish there was some book I could read so I would know if I'm at least on the right track. I guess I don't really want to be on the right track though. 22 is too young to be old. So my hands are shaking because I drank a ton of coffee this morning. Facing the day without caffine didn't look appealing. I wish I could live in the computer and fight dragons all day. Instead I'm stuck in this actual world...still fighting dragons...sadly I don't have weapons.

damage control on a wednesday

some days it's hard to like my job. i feel like i'm jumping from one problem to the next. damage control is what i call it. kids aren't getting along and it's hot and i have to stop them from doing things that i know if i were given the chance, i would do as well. *sigh* damage control. the staff is great and i like them. i don't know them which is weird because i see them every day. i don't think i've made friends with anyone because honestly i'm jumping from one strange catastrophe to the next. kids looking up porn, forgetting to go to the bathroom, unable to get along with one another. it's chaos. and i feel like i can't accomplish anything. i hope it won't be like this when i get my own classroom.

so...strange question...what would you do if you married someone that really loved you but then you found the person that was meant to be your soulmate? hmmm...i guess i can't wrap my mind around that.

5 Years and a 6 Pack

It is so hard for me to concentrate on anything in this mad house. Kids yelling, Family Guy playing on a computer, complaints, sing...seriously, singing? I give up. I had some great things to type about but they all leave my mind when I'm in this...this...yeah.

So over the weekend my 5 year high school reunion took place...in a field...with lots of beer and vodka. I didn't go. I "had to work." I actually did have to work but I was totally okay with that. I didn't want to go...or I thought I didn't. Sometimes my thoughts get jumbled together. So after work, I went over to my friends house. She was also skipping the reunion. We didn't do anything amazing...we just didn't go. It was weird. I had no desire to go. Maybe a very small desire but mostly no. And that was a big thing for me. Sometimes I feel the need to prove something to the people I graduated with. I wasn't popular or athletic or pretty or smart. I was so average at everything. I feel the need to show them that I have become something amazing...that now I am pretty and smart and popular. But that night, the night of the reunion, I really didn't feel the need to go. I was okay with sitting in an empty living room, hanging with my friend and drinking some Mountain Dew. I was cool with the fact that the rest of my graduating class was getting drunk in a corn field and I was on the outside. Truth be told, it wouldn't have been fun for me anyway. I can't drink. And by can't I mean I literally can't. Something about the smell even makes me sick. And something about being hit on by my fellow graduates just didn't appeal to me.

2:00 in the morning was the time I thought about taking back my decision to skip. I wondered if it would have been kind of fun to see all the people I either didn't like or didn't hang out with in high school. I had this crush. He was pretty amazing. I pretty much liked him all through high school...even when he became a man-whore. We were so similar. He was shy and smart and funny and no one really appreciated his sense of humor. Kinda like me. Then he became a man-whore and that's where the similarities ended. And even though I haven't seen him for years, I still had some weird, stale crush on him. I wonder what it would have been like to see him again. Fun...or weird...or awkward. I'm going to go with weird and awkward. He was pretty drunk and I may have had the opportunity to take advantage of him and I might have done that. Whatev though. Right? I didn't go. The End.

So 5 years and a 6 pack later, turns out I still have the same crush but I think I'm over the rest of my high school chaos. I think I'm better than that. I'm cooler. I know I've grown. And that makes me feel amazing.

I'm allergic to the holidays

I do believe that it is inevitable...I get sick on every major holiday. It's not something I'm proud of. Actually, it sucks. So I went to a friends house for the 4th. I have to be honest. I'm not so much a big fan of the 4th. It's sad and unpatriotic and it's not that I don't love my country or that I don't respect the men and women who fought and continue to fight for our country. I think I don't like it because no one really knows what it is really about. No one really cares about the people that have died. People use it as an unnecessary excuse to get wasted and burn stuff. That makes me sad. When I pause to think about the actual red glare of the rockets and the actual bombs that were bursting in the air, it's so...big...so...*sigh*. It makes me realize how totally unworthy I am of this great gift...this great country. I could be living in Africa or Darfur and I'm living here in this country where I think I'm poor because I don't get a new pair of Nikes every month. That makes me feel like crap. That brings me back to the real world. That shows me my problems are so small and I need that from time to time. I need that alot.

I've decided to skate through this summer with all emotions intow. It's a strange decision and one that will, inevitably, close me off from the world. I'm okay with that. This summer is not the time to become attached. I don't have the time or the energy. Well I have the time and I could make the energy but I just...it wouldn't be best for me. So my goal now is to stomp it out. All of it. It's not productive. I have this friend. He's amazing. He just turned 30. And he's single. And the most amazing thing about it is that he's okay with that. I think he would truly be okay with forever being single or with getting married tomorrow. I admire him for about 19 different reasons and that one is on the list. But for now it's a holiday and I, once again, am sick. Awesome. Nothing like the sweet smell of fireworks and a hit of retasted hamburgers. :)

Dead Baby Jokes

So...the only time I blog is when I'm here...with these kids. And I don't want to type actual stuff because...well...some kid would probably end up crying. Apparently I often take my sarcasm overboard. Also, I say inappropriate things...like dead baby jokes...in public...with my fellow employees around. I guess it's time I realize that not everyone has my sense of humor.

So I've decided that the weekend, the one that just got over, was completely useless. I think I ended up running from one job to the next and I'm not a big fan. Sometimes I feel like I go through my days not doing a single thing for myself and that, my friend, is no way to live.

I wish I had something amazing to say. Actually, I wish I could say the amazing things in my head but for fear of the children... Let me leave off by saying...dead baby jokes may not be appropriate at all times. Use wisdom.