It's occurred to me today that when you've been teaching for a few years, the delayed gratification of writing novels (you know what that means - work for years on a project without definite proof of any future economic benefits but keep going because it's your passion and you'd shrivel up if you stopped doing it) is not that different than being in the classroom. You work your ass off and are absurdly happy if someone gives you, say, a free meatball sub and chips as compensation.
It was a good sub sandwich today. I earned it after two full days of tutoring at Camp Ridge, our inhouse prep for those in danger of not passing state tests. The chips were crunchy. The pickle pretty outstanding. The bun could have been crisper. ( I hate soft buns... on many levels, actually)
Tomorrow we get Chik Fil A.
It is small wonder that delightful agent Michelle once commented that I was nice to work with because I was very collaborative. People who regularly toil ridiculous amounts of hours for the sole incentive of a chicken sandwich and fries are generally a rather malleable lot.
Or possibly just insane.
In a good way, of course.
Til next time...