Today my teacher bestie called me.
The one I’ve taught across the hall from for the last I-don’t-even-know-how-many-years. The one I spent every lunch time and planning period with. The one I’ve cried to, laughed with and designed some absolutely killer lessons with.
She goes back to work tomorrow.
I don’t.
My feelings are…complex.
Does part of me wish I was going to be sitting next to her tomorrow, listening to the new principal go on and about what a great year it’s going to be?
Kind of.
Does part of me with I had a new group of kids to meet, new lessons to plan, and a new mission to pour myself in to?
Yeah.
Does a big part of me also know that there is absolutely no way on God’s green earth that I am physically or, let’s be real, mentally ready to do that?
Also yes.
Life transition sucks.
Part of me is so incredibly grateful to have to ability to stay home, work in my darkened office with my ice hat on, and take a 2pm nap to sleep off a migraine when I need to.
But part of me is also still mourning the part of my identity that’s been shoved in my closet in a black and yellow tote labeled “teacher things”.
Two things can be true.
I can love the work I’m doing now. Editing. Beta reading. Design. Course evaluation. Building my own resources.
I can also miss the work I am unable to do now. Lesson planning, classroom decoration, building amazing community with my 7th graders, convincing them to open a book and ACTUALLY read it.
I don’t have a nice, tidy wrap up to this post.
Maybe a year from now I’ll go back to teaching, refreshed and not in a continuous migraine.
Maybe I won’t.
All I know is tomorrow, I’ll wake up, I’ll cuddle my pets, I’ll have a client call, I’ll do some work on my open contracts, and I’ll text with my teacher bestie…
who, I guess, is just a regular bestie now.
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