This fall has been tough. Our second dog died of old age. We are dogless now. Trying to get another, but disappointment after disappointment. Mom, breast cancer, but alive and doing well. My job, tiring. 500 kids coming through my room, a week, my head is spinning. I'm finding myself jealous of the cashiers at Wegmans. (Hey, it is a good job).
Why is change so scary as you get older?
Today, we almost got a dog. A little black lab mixed with pointer but there were two families ahead of us at the shelter. I got myself ready to walk it in the morning, to buy the body toppling bag of dog food again, to pick up EVERYTHING off the floor. I saw the father and son who got the little guy. I'm sure they'll be great. We would be better of course.
I never really meant to be a teacher. It was one of those things that I thought would fill the gaps. The in-betweens, you know. I like it, I do but I want something more....
So who am I to want to want more from a job? But I do.
Sometimes, when I'm on here, I click the link to "other posts you might enjoy". why thank you blogger. I just read my post about taking my boys to see the Blue Man group. My oldest son cajoled me into buying him a red DC hoodie (read the post here) and darned if he doesn't STILL wear the thing. When I read these though, I find myself short of breath on occasion. How did I let things change so much? How is it that I don't remember the looks on their faces when the toilet paper shot out of Blue Man cannons? I feel sometimes like I am drowning in the rapids of time swooshing past.
Just trying to pop my head up above the water.
He/she would have been a great distraction.
We would have been the better choice of course.