I clearly remember the night before my first day of junior high school, spent frantically trying to drift off to sleep. I knew that 6am came early, and although my mom's advice to 'sleep fast' sounded like a good theory, it would not erase next-day circles under my pre-adolescent eyes.
I effectively freaked myself out enough to stay up, wide-eyed and terrified, until precisely 3:17am when I finally drifted off into a fitful sleep.
I don't remember much about the following day, but I certainly remember that night. Which brings me to wonder how many freshman inside the Theodore Roosevelt High School boundary lines will have fitful dreams tonight. All week I thought how lucky they were to be sleeping until luxurious times and watching daytime TV while all us teachers sat through exhilarating hours of professional development. But now...I'm not so sure.
I also wonder about the shiny new teacher faces at TR, remembering the looks of sheer terror on Friday as they realized they only had 48 hours until D-day.
I am so frikkin' glad I'll never again be a 7th grade kid...or a first-year teacher.
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