It’s September; it feels like June.

Color My Palate

Autumn Sangria Autumn Sangria

Glistening spinach and Chorizo atop thick tender scallops arrive in front of me Saturday night.  The plate sits next to the mason jar filled to the brim with Autumn Sangria.  I take a sip of the blissful blend of cinnamon, cloves, apples, Cabernet, and brandy,  inhale the gentle wind allowing it to wash it away–the transition, the fears, the questions, the frustration, the irritability.  It’s late September, but it feels like early summer.  It’s late September, but it feels like it’s the end of the school year.  I’m exhausted, feeling burnt out and in need of a break and it’s only four weeks in.

It is the start of my 9th year as a teacher; my 7th principal.  The new regime is filled with control, change, unrealistic expectations, and no time to complete the tasks that allow me to feel successful.  I lean back in my metal chair…

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