I hate that I am turning into one of those people that lives for the weekend. Its not that I do not enjoy my job, it is just heavy and busy and taxing. I have fifth graders that cannot read the simplest sentences. I have seventh grade refugees that sit in school for 8 hours a day not understanding a single word. I have ninth graders that cannot spell the word "rape", but they know that they have been victims of it.
And its not all bad. I walk in every morning to adorable smiling faces. I love seeing the English Language Learners light up when I speak to them in Spanish. I have read incredibly insightful poems written by my freshman this week.
But all that to say, it does feel like I am just "powering through" the weeks to catch up on sleep, rejuvenate, and squeeze in some social interactions when the weekends roll around. I hope that will ease as time goes on.
Meanwhile, I am clinging to this truth.