September Eve

Tomorrow is the first day of September.  I’m still waiting for the email confirming that my substitute teaching paperwork has been processed, but I am already in “school year mode.”  Yep, you guessed it: I’ve been hoarding loose-leaf and scouting new pens, and looking up principals’ names, and trying to find my “good shoes.”

I spent much of today setting up a new notebook, to use for the coming year.  I counted pages, and put in monthly tabs, and tested my pens on a back page to see what — if anything — bled through.

Am I excited to go back to school?  Yes.  I haven’t been in a classroom since the 2018-2019 school year.  (Thanks, COVID.)  Am I afraid to go back to school?  Also yes.

Although I’m fully-Pfizered, my autoimmune disease means we have no idea just how much of an effect the vaccine has had, and being a substitute teacher means I travel from school to school where other substitute teachers are also travelling from school to school.  The teachers went back today; the students start next week.

I’m very, very nervous.

But maybe by the time the paperwork is ready, I will be ready too.


This post was created as part of Two Writing Teachers’ Slice of Life Challenge

You can view other writers’ contributions via the comments here.

When Pigs Fly

Little pig, little pig,

What are they saying we can’t do today?

You are solid; iron will.

If they make me wobble,
I’ll hold onto you
For stability.

Little pig, little pig,

Where and how high
shall we fly
today?


This post was created as part of Two Writing Teachers’ Slice of Life Challenge

You can view other writers’ contributions via the comments here.

For Science.

“I don’t know about this,” my friend said, as she stood in line to order a sub.

My gaze followed hers, down to a nearby bin.  I blinked a couple of times, reminding myself I need to wear my glasses.

“Does that say …?”

M. nodded.  “It does.”

I just shook my head in disbelief.

Because I wasn’t ordering, and because this was still the Time of COVID, I felt like I was in the way, so I told my friend I was going to look around the convenience store a bit.

I was wandering the various displays of junk food — pondering several bags of Doritos, eventually choosing none of them — and rounded a corner.

There it was.  Again.

I stood on tip-toe to see if M. had picked one up — she hadn’t — and so I gave in to impulse.  A nano-moment later, I put it on the counter, before I changed my mind.

Some things one just has to do — for science.

A little while later, as we resumed our road trip along Route 8 up to Miramichi, I pulled it out of my cooler bag.

“I did it,” I confessed.  “Are you in?”

M. — with an expression of curiosity, skepticism, and horror which I was certain mirrored my own — agreed.  Sink or swim, we were in this together.

I opened the package carefully, and broke the contents into four pieces.  Two trials each.  I handed M. her first portion, and simultaneously we put the pieces in our mouths.

Silent, thoughtful, and confused chewing ensued.

“What do you think?” I asked M.

“I … don’t know,” came the uncertain response.

“Me either. … Want to try again?”

Even after the second trial, we remained mystified and befuddled.  Besides not being able to parse our reactions, we both had the same, unspoken question hurtling in our heads.

Who thinks to put a thin layer of popcorn in a chocolate bar?!

We may need to do more trials to decide whether it was a good idea or not.

For science.


This post was created as part of Two Writing Teachers’ Slice of Life Challenge

You can view other writers’ contributions via the comments here.