I love my school. I love my colleagues (one of whom will be staying as a technician in the room). I love the kids. I love the feeling of doing something important. And it doesn't hurt that my school is only a mile away from home and keeps my hours away at a real minimum. After being a SAHM for eighteen years I have felt blessed to find a job back in education again (I was a fifth grade teacher when I was first married), but in a new and exciting section of it.
When I came back to work on Tuesday I was told by my very likeable principal that the higher ups had taken the job offer off the table and are planning on sliding an administrator with fewer district responsibilities into the position. Budget cuts. Kick in the gut.
Then when my husband got home he brought these.
Sweetheart. He loves me and felt rotten that I felt rotten. Beautiful flowers help. They really do. And so the next day I brought them in to the classroom to cheer us all up, since it wasn't just me that was disappointed the day before.
By Friday I was in the mood for a little hair therapy, which I crave here and there when I feel restless. So I went with a defiant single highlight that made me feel good. It was fun to play around a bit, even if I end up changing it again by Sunday night. It's my canvas and I like to mix it up.The main lesson I actually learned from this whole experience this week is that I can expect things of myself. I can be a real contributor. And this was a valuable thing to learn about myself even though the job itself slipped away. It's all good.