Friday, October 20, 2006

The Living Dead

I am dying. It is a slow painful death called "First Year Teacher in a Middle School." I am tired. I don't even have time to shave my legs or pluck my eyebrows. I get up at 5AM and take a shower and hope that I put on matching clothes. I walk out of the house at 5:30 with wet hair, a pony tail holder and my make up to do in the car at stop lights even though it is dark outside still. I just keep hoping that I don't walk into school looking like I am a clown. I don't have time to look in the mirror when I get there because I am making copies, entering grades and organizing my "cart" for the day. The kids come and I am running around trying to get my bottle of water and sneak into the lounge to put my pop tarts into the toaster. I finally sit down for our team meeting, but the whole time I am grading papers or making overheads or putting together lists of student reading levels or whatever else. I am pretty sure this is living death.


Tara said...

Mary, I think you have just confirmed my doubt in becoming a teacher. I could never work that hard. Hang in there. I'm sure it won't always be that bad. We must talk.

By the by, I just sent you a package.

Kristine & Derek Blackwelder said...

Nobody said cultivating the great minds of the future would be easy! That's why you're doing it and not me!! Bless your tired little heart! Go out and get a Nordstrom's treat- you deserve it!


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