Dear friend,
As I'm sure you know the school year is almost over. I have only four more days to work with the children, and officially two weeks after that to clean the classroom. Then I am free, Free, FREE! I don't plan on taking a full two weeks to get out of there, but I don't know if the people in charge are as eager to be rid of me as I am to be rid of them. I can't imagine that I've been altogether pleasant an employee, but I have tried to be professional and up-front about what I thought was fair. This is the only "job" I've disliked. (Job is in quotes because it's only my second paying job, but I've worked at more than two places, and I've worked at a school before.) I remember that at the beginning of the year I told myself that once I was used to the work I'd love it, since that's how I usually am. It wasn't true with this place. Perhaps I'm naive, but I don't think you should work at a job that you don't like. I used to say I wouldn't work a job that I didn't love, but at this point love seems far out of reach of work. I do, however, want to wake up on some Monday mornings without a sense of impending doom and dread. I don't know (still) what's next for me, but I'm not too stressed about that. I wasn't expecting a real summer vacation, but maybe I'll take one anyway. I've got the rest of my life to be responsible and adult over the summer, you know.
In less heavy thinking, I was sick of the last layout and header the instant I put it up. I'm not actually that crazy about Guy of Gisborne, and though Richard Armitage was the only reason I started watching Robin Hood he really isn't enough to keep me watching it. Honestly, it's Much that I ended up adoring. It's maddeningly difficult to find out anything about Sam Troughton, the actor who portrays the lovable Much, but that's OK. What I have found out about him leads me to believe I wouldn't actually like him all that much. I do like his character very much though.
Also very airy and light in thought, I love how the English say "strawberry" and "squirrel".
