Seventy-four days and my teaching career will be over. Out of the 1186 days that have already passed, it is but a wisp. About 740 hours left out of the approximately 10,000 hours that I will put in total.
I haven’t decided how I feel. It’s almost like knowing which day you are going to die. Maybe more like knowing on which day you will be born.
My ambition is throwing a party right now. Totally rejoicing that law school can be my “job.” After dividing my attention every which way – with part-time jobs and summer jobs and certification classes – it will be a relief to focus entirely on one thing. I can get good at something. As insulted as I am that more effort is not being made to get me to stay, I am also delighted that the decision has been made for me. Once again, all educational roads lead to budgets.
My conscience is guilt-ridden, though. I feel bad for leaving my kids, and I feel bad for not feeling as bad as I should. I told someone recently that only 10% of my problems are about my feelings; the other 90% about my feelings about my feelings. It’s like meta-emotion: feelings about feelings. And what a ridiculous waste of brain power that is.
I’ll probably come to some conclusion or make peace with all of this soon – in about 73 days.