June.

It feels like there is so much to balance lately, and I can't eliminate that feeling of teetering. Peter isn' getting paid on time because Paul had his hand thrust forward first. I nearly walked away from my job not wanting to look back. I'm hoping that when my application portfolio was placed on the 36 inch pile of teaching applications it doesn't get lost or overlooked.

I think I'm burned out. I love kids. I really, really do. But lately I have been punched, kicked, scratched and head butted (with marks to prove it) and I decided maybe I should quit after a day of restraining when I couldn't this time stop the tears from coming. Shit. All that work to show an ounce of weakness. And it wasn't being smacked in the eye, scratched down my face or being clipped in the chin with a back of the head that caused the tears. It was that total feeling of helplessness....the frustration of not getting through. It was that all the caring in the world might not help...and that thought coming home with me.

If I don't get a response on one of these teaching positions I'm heading in a new direction. I'm thinking about something in a small room with white walls. When I told my supervisor she might find me in the corner babbling, she promised to bring the crayons.