I am sitting at work, thinking that I really should be putting lesson plans together for the next year. I don't feel like moving, but I know I will be cursing this day, in future retrospect, if I don't give it at least a tiny little thought.
Is that a grammatical tense? It should be. I predict, this time, on Monday, January 5th, I will be hating myself for not working out of my lethargy and writing lesson plans.
I have a new student. I already had a brief chat with his social worker, and his counselor isn't returning my calls. My heart breaks for this kid, while at the same time, every time he darkens my doorway, I want to run. It takes me hours to recover from being in his presence-- his frustration, pain and agony is almost palpable. This kid doesn't need an art teacher, he needs a really excellent psychologist, and human, loving parents. Part of my discomfit is knowing that there is little I can do to help him. There is a little positive I can do, I know that. I am humbled.