Made in Richmond

At my last job I had to make lots of decisions about things like how to approach a parent about a child’s suspected learning disability, or the best way to differentiate instruction for a classroom with children ranging in abilities from identified gifted to borderline MiMD (that’s mildly mentally-delayed for you laypersons). Or about really important things like who gets to go get a drink of water when. Those of you who teach know that is one of the most important calls you will ever make.

The new job is definitely different. The only water-drinking schedule I have to worry about it my own (p.s. if you drink a lot of water, you have to go the bathroom a lot, so much that it seems almost disproportionate). I spent over 30 minutes today fuming over the fact that sometimes there just isn’t a better word for better but you can’t use better 34,621 times in a sentence but you don’t want to use the wrong word because to use the wrong word is a cop out and copping out is not tolerated, particularly by me and definitely not by my boss.

As the end of the school year approached, I found it very hard to get up the motivation to come in on time and to not bolt right when the kids left. That is totally not a dig at my school- I love my school with all of my heart. It just gets like that. Now my hours are from 8 to 5 (I actually picked the earlier option-awhaaaaa?) and I have not left at 5 yet this week. Staying here a little bit longer just doesn’t have the soul-sucking effect that putting in extra time at school started to have. I don’t sit in the car in the morning, banging my head against the steering wheel and pleading with the good Lord above to spare me from any verbal assaults that day or for him to orchestrate a massive blizzard in the middle of May so I could just go home and go back to bed. I’ve been excited to come to this job everyday-nervous beyond belief at times, but excited.

I turned in my first copy the other day and it was totally not what it needed to be. Thankfully my boss told me that. I’m not one who appreciates anything wishy-washy, especially when it comes to the quality of my work. I don’t want to think I’m awesome while everyone else knows I suck, talks about while I’m not there, and has to pick up the slack when I’m not looking. The only thing worse than being dead weight is not knowing you’re dead weight. I have a lot to learn and I’m willing to screw up a ton at the beginning if it means that I’ll become good at my job-better to crash from a low altitude, I say. I just hope my ego doesn’t get in the way. Although, it takes a lot to hurt my feelings considering some of the things that former students and parents have said to me. My skin is pretty thick and I appreciate honesty. I don’t BS and they don’t seem to do that here.

Plus, today there were some festivities involving a chicken suit AND chocolate cake. I mean, seriously, how many of you can say that you were at the office today and saw a chicken discussing specific padding on a page’s html? Uh, that would be zero of you unless you work with me.

I’m glad the first week is over and I’m excited for Monday-even for the whole crashing and burning part because apparently I’m a masochist (not *that* kind, though). And, there’s word that there are some leg warmers in our future. CAN YOU HANDLE IT?