sometimes moving is good for the soul. we spent all day helping an old friend move 8 carloads of stuff into her third-story apartment... her first time living sola. as we sat amidst the mess of boxes and scattered furniture, our conversation drifted to manual labor. encapsulating a lot of what our college graduate crowd lives and does is this quote from a friend: "i'm just not good at manual labor, i prefer to sit and think." amen to that, and a santana-like bow to those who sweat under the sun, breaking their backs day after day. i know i sure couldn't do it.i've had some interesting conversations about relationships the last few days, but none more unexpected than an exchange with my students that went like so (names changed to protect those students who will soon be given unsatisfactory on their next report card):
adrian: maestra, ¿cuándo te casas?
josue: (before i can respond) ¡NUNCA!
thanks for the vote of confidence you little jerk. after school, adrian and several other kids expressed their concern. "¿no tienes novio? ¿por qué? ¿no buscas novio?" it's complicated, dammit! i shouldn't have to explain this to six year olds in the first place.i think since i started mid-year, next year i'll still be considered a first-year teacher. i wonder if i'll get the perks (mentor, low expectations and the constant "oh! i didn't know!" excuse) along with the downsides (first year salary, stupid new teacher meetings/trainings/orientations).
have a good weekend maestros y los demás. i'll be chillaxin' on monday while you fools are workin' it. AND i get to skip morning duty... i don't think i could start my week off on a better note!