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stoutfellowThis is how I know I'm in the right line of work.
I walk into the classroom. Maybe I'm tired; maybe my feet hurt; maybe I'm upset about something. I go up to the front and sit down for a bit, one eye on the clock. The hour comes, and I stand up and bellow my trademark "O-kayyy!"
And it all drops away. I'm fully awake; the sore feet drop from my awareness; the upset fades into the background. I'm on, and that's all that matters, for the next fifty, seventy-five, eighty minutes.
It doesn't work for everything. A cold, a bad allergy attack, a nasty backache are too much; but the everyday stuff doesn't stand a chance.
This is where I'm supposed to be.
I walk into the classroom. Maybe I'm tired; maybe my feet hurt; maybe I'm upset about something. I go up to the front and sit down for a bit, one eye on the clock. The hour comes, and I stand up and bellow my trademark "O-kayyy!"
And it all drops away. I'm fully awake; the sore feet drop from my awareness; the upset fades into the background. I'm on, and that's all that matters, for the next fifty, seventy-five, eighty minutes.
It doesn't work for everything. A cold, a bad allergy attack, a nasty backache are too much; but the everyday stuff doesn't stand a chance.
This is where I'm supposed to be.
