A friend suggested that the only way I could rejuvenize my blog would be a post about "love making". I pointed out that I know everything and nothing about love making, so it would be a boring post. He thought it sounded intriguing. To keep him from drowning himself in cheap whiskey and tear, I'm recounting the conversation, but not posting about love making.
Is it ok that, after spending three and a half years working toward a teaching degree, I don't think I want to teach? I got my assignment on Wednesday, and I'm down in Kansas City, teaching science and history to kids in an "urban" high school, and I don't have a place to live, yet. Freaky. Maybe I'll be the shabby, sort of smelly student teacher who doubles as a drifter and mumbles convoluted political innuendos under my gin-soaked breath. Maybe. I think every Christian school needs one of those.
Anyways, I don't think I want to teach in the US. Maybe outside the country, or maybe I'd rather work for an organization which works at community development, of which education is a part. But after all the unit plans, explanations of my double major, focusing events, discussions on cognitive development, and classroom observations, I don't like it any more. I know it's totally cliche to have a crisis of identity your senior year of college, but I'm having one anyway. Sometimes the Man just gets you down.
I dunno. Maybe I'll just sit around and wait for the Apocalypse, since Jeff's so sure it's coming soon, anyways. Rather than deal with issues, I'll wait for the world to end.
P.S. Is it weird to anyone else that it was 80 degrees on Tuesday and there are two inches of snow on the ground this morning?
Friday, November 10, 2006
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