Ok look, here is what they’ll never tell you about being a teacher as a tender young TFA recruit.
Oh they’ll tell you that it’s rewarding (read: hard). They’ll tell you that it’s exhausting, even.
But they won’t tell you about Sunday nights.
Sunday night is Pure Evil. Never mind the soul deadening anxiety about the week to come, never mind the pit of dread in the bottom of your stomach, never mind the crushing lesson plan deadlines sneaking up on you with every tick, tick, tick of the clock.
(Note the onomatopoeia)
The worst part comes when you snuggle in to your air mattress (goal for February: purchase bed), turn out the lights, set your alarm for 4:45 the next morning and… nothing. The combination of the sleep you caught up on over the weekend and the incessant yapping of your teacher brain will keep you counting sheep until your ring tone blares obnoxiously to let you know that it’s time for Another Day of Teaching and Learning.

You are my favorite person, by a lot. This post sums up my life / school / my frequent attempts to survive.