insert whine here.

Last of the gas tank metaphor-- it's on empty. Done. A certain class of mine bombed the midterm. Epic fail. Bring on the shoulder knots and tears, the "I suck" thoughts and "Maybe teaching isn't my thing."

But then I crank up Fleet Foxes and pick up my fur baby from daycare, sit outside on the porch while the sun sets and the wind picks up (promising a chilly night,) and a calming peace takes over. Yes, these moments are discouraging, but we'll move past this. I'll continue to teach them the best that I can, love them with all I have, and pray for the best.

And by the time 2014 comes around, when my salary is tied to their performances, I'll (God willing!) be loooooong gone.