Army Boy

I love to hate the way he does this to me. Four times over. With noodles.

I am officially...

(barring graduation), an English teacher. A real one. With a real county.

HOLY SHIT.

It's BuyBack Season!

I have sold my soul to retail.

Cashiering, stocking, restocking, returns, frivolous searches for something that probably doesn't exist anyway, and the pursuit of that barely-over-minimum-wage paycheck.

Why do I do it?

When I can make someone's day, just by handing them a book. When my coworker-friends just about tackle me because they haven't seen me in four months. When I look at a display that I spent hours pulling together and a customer walks by and says "Wow, that looks great!"

I felt at home clocking in today. I felt at home sitting at my desk doing sales reports. And I even felt at home when the nerdy guy stared at my boobs while I facilitated his textbook buyback.

Maybe I'm weird for loving what some would consider the most mindless, unsatisfying summer job in the world. But I get to watch people. And talk about books.

I love my temporary, seasonal job, and I don't care who knows it!

Just for once, I'd like some kind of follow-through.

With just two days of student teaching left, my portfolio submitted, and graduation looming, I can't help but feel like myself again. The excitement of this summer, spending time with him, going through Liz's list of last-things-to-do-before-she-moves, apartment hunting with Mel, finally getting a full-time teaching job. So many things to look forward to.

I'll have to make a more conscious effort to update this thing, so that I can take you all along for the ride.