I went into the school year knowing this was my third year. Meaning at the end of the this year I would achieve tenure. The thought of this was a light at the end of a very long tunnel.
Because I'm a planner. Any my life is definitely NOT going according to my plan. I was supposed to be teaching high school social studies, coming home to a family, living in a house.
Now I'm teaching reading intervention. In middle school. In an often hostile work environment.
And 8 is my new favorite number.
It's the number of legs on a spider. The number of maids-a-milking. The number of Harry Potter movies. The number of pints in a gallon. The number of days and nights in Hanukah.
And the number of student contact days that I was short during my first year of teaching in order for it to count. So I'm 8 days short of achieving tenure at the end of this year.
8 days short.
I was told I had Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday to mope. And now, I'm trying to find the positives.