This morning I woke up in a panic after a long, restless night. Trying to figure out what exactly was wrong I desperately went back over what I could remember of my dream-
and very clearly it came back
the closet they'd moved my partner-in-crime and I into because "we wouldn't mind, would we?" and desperately trying to set up the classroom on the first day of school with the kids there, because they hadn't given us any time during teacher workdays to set up our classroom.
the closet full of old crayons they told us we couldn't get rid of, we'd just have to work around.
the fact they took away our IA because her desk wouldn't fit in our new closet-room.
and when I visited my old kids in their new classes- chaos. Out of control.
I reached for the closest pure-fiction-pool-literature-non-school-related-book and spent my morning trying to lower my heart rate. Maybe I'm not ready to go back after all....