The Pink Cardigan of Power

The last week and a half have been a pretty big deal.

Why?

Miss Love got a teaching job and turned 24.

The only thing that would've made it bigger was if Jude Law and Benedict Cumberbatch had flown out to propose and I'd become Laura Lawmberbatch.

Right now I should probably be working on a powerpoint or tweaking my gradebook or researching more about what to do during the first week of school, but my brain so full I....can't even think of a clever line to finish that sentence with.

And I already spent ten hours at school today.

So here we are.

Last Monday morning, two days before my birthday, I donned a pink cardigan, picked up my green binder, and drove my little yellow car to a teaching interview. I'd never thought about stopping by this school before because the sign out front had a big fat "MIDDLE" on it. Surprise surprise--this middle school also had a fifth grade. 

Forty-five minutes after I strutted through the front doors, I came back out again with two thoughts running through my head:

1) GO LAURA! GO LAURA! You didn't fidget or play with your hair ONCE! You are the interview MASTER! You have the cardigan of POWER! You are the prettiest lady who ever did sit in that OFFICE CHAIR!

2) AaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhHHHHH.

I was panicked. I knew next to nothing about this school, it was a middle school, I could end up with math, and I had no other interviews to compare with this.

What if they offered me a job?

It was like being terrified of the blind date your great-aunt Bernice set you up on.

Not that I've ever been set up on a blind date or had a great-aunt Bernice.

Anyway.

I went back to my office job and spent six hours feeling like my stomach was slithering out the soles of my shoes while my scanner WWWWWHHHRRRRVVVed a dirge in the background.

Then.

THEN.

My phone went off.

Bpppt bpppt.

"Hello, this is Laura."

"Hi, Laura. You still interested in being a tiger?"

"UH. Sure? What grade?"

"I've got a fifth grade position. Is that a yes or a no?"

"Yeeeeessssss....?"

REAL PROFESSIONAL, LAURA.

After I hung up, my phone hit the desk and I wandered into my aunt/manager's office.

"I got a job," I said. "I guess this is my last day?"

(and it was, but they still threw a little party on my birthday and we all had PIE.)

Suddenly I had what I'd been praying for, less than two weeks before school was supposed to start.

I was going to have a classroom. 

A badge. 

A name plaque.

Piles and mountains of paper.

And 20-something fifth graders.

The next day I went back to the school and started meeting co-workers and digging through my room.

That's when I finally got stoked.

I'm not kidding when I say that I couldn't have asked for a better team to work with.

I have Language Arts and Social Studies, which is exactly what I wanted.

Kindergarten is something I won't have to fear as long as I work at this school.

All that fear I felt after my interview should have been a positive indicator, because as we all know, most good experiences start with me being terrified.

Over the last week I've accumulated enough paper to build my own castle--which is fortunate because I may need it to cover up my poor, unfinished classroom. 

I survived open house with a smile, cookies, and fifteen pounds of "I've-got-this". 

School starts on Friday.

I don't have any cap erasers or pencil holders yet.

This year is going to be hard.

You know what, though? It's where I'm supposed to be.

And I'm excited.

This will be my new background WWWWHHHRRRRVVV.