My job is an even split between being a mountain I feel like I'll never be able to climb and tiny moments of success that make it all worthwhile. I guess maybe there's a Miley Cyrus song in there somewhere, BUT OKAY the less cliche part of this realization is this: I am being forced to be better. A better teacher, a better person, better. And even though I put everything into my work, there are still going to be days when that doesn't show. Love [sometimes] hurts, even when you do it right, and that's as true in teaching as it is in romance.
I moved suddenly this summer. It wasn't something on which I'd planned, but it's ended up being the most wonderful change. I'm living in a little house with a deck and fenced in backyard. I'm closer to the city and comfortable in my home for the first time since I left college. My best friend is just upstairs and available to dissect dates and advise fashion at any given moment. I'm home and I'm happy here. The strangest thing is that it wasn't until I moved that I realized how unhappy I'd been at my last apartment. It never ever felt like home, I always felt like a guest. It was a beautiful space, but it was always quiet and never mine. & while we're riding the cliche train, it's fitting to point out that there really is "...no place like home."
Especially when home is covered in Degas & dogs.
& to switch gears entirely: Someone at work was talking about a friend who was dating in their 60s and made the comment that she'd never want to do that because dating was hard enough in her twenties. & ya know, I have a lot (A LOT) of thoughts on dating, but I don't know that I'd call it "hard."
In other news: Madewell is my new favorite store. The clothes are just MADE so WELL. Plus there's a teacher discount...
So anyway...
