So, I used to teach first grade every single day. It was my job. I got up and went to work in the morning without giving it too much thought. I had fun. I loved the kids. Then I came home, ate dinner, watched some television and went to bed. Things were good.
Today, I subbed in first grade. I think the children were trying to kill me.
Actually, the children weren't bad, they were first graders and acted just a first graders should. But here I am, ready to get in bed before nine again, my feet are aching, and my throat is decidedly sore from all the talking necessary when spending the day with a room full of first graders.
Is it possible to have a fun, successful day, and still feel as though you've been hit by a truck?
I get to go back and do it tomorrow.
The best part of the day was coming home to Harper who was so excited to see me. And the fact that she started every story about her day by taking a deep breath and saying, "Well," in a short emphatic huff like a gossipy neighbor who has new dish to share.