My Cardboard Balcony

Wow. It has been a really crazy time back at work. The thing is, I hardly know where to start with this. The first two weeks back at school were more than just hectic. They took more out of me than I wanted them to take. Dealing with mean girl drama, almost missing a deadline, having English students get very snide with me based on work I ask them to and projects I assign them and things they thought I said that I didn't. Working at a high school is no cake walk. My income ought to be doubled. Yearbook did officially make it to the halfway mark, though. 152 out of 304 pages. Three more deadlines to go. And they're coming up fast. Less than two months left to crank this out. Colleagues have jumped in to help. Meanwhile, I've been trying to gain my bearings. I'm learning just how much more I have to do and improve upon to be a successful teacher for every student. I'm trying to manage my emotions as best as I can. I'm writing more spoken word poetry than eve

Concave Eyes by Belinda Roddie The reflection in my spoon is prettier than my face.

There weren't exactly any lessons to learn from this - at least, not any I could particularly fathom. In the end, I was bruised, battered, emaciated, and exhausted. My friends were equally as scraped up and starved. We stood in front of our mentor, who smiled as if the great challenge had turned us into far better adults than we could have imagined. But we were all still sixteen, and we were all still confused as to why it seemed that every bone in our body hurt.