On Friday, I received some exciting news.
I have been offered a teaching position at a high school.
After believing that I would be dining in the soup kitchen, and working on my 300 line, “Tonight, we dine in Hell,” I will no longer need such devices. It is a fantastical sensation. To put down my hedge trimmers and no longer need to lock down my landscape position in front of Home Depot. It is a relief. Plus, I was not corralling the highest amount of praise for my Sonic the Hedgehog lawn design. I guess interest in Sonic died with Sega. I’d mow a Mario, but it is not in my drawing repertoire, in fact nothing else is. That, and it would most likely end in a racial depiction of an Italian with a crooked moustache. Nobody wants that.
By becoming a teacher, I receive a contract. It is a one year contract that dictates what I will be required to do. Teach, obviously.
I am treating it like I am an unrestricted free agent. People do not just happen across a gem like me, alright? The Alexandrite. Game time was fast approaching, and they realized they had a gap to fill in the roster. Enter me. I go in and sign this contract today. I have it all thought out. I’m taking my agent with me to negotiate a good deal.
Hint: I am the agent.
Hint #2: I’ll be accepting the first number they throw at me.
Also, like any good free agent, before I sign, I want to be courted too. I want to feel the love. In the teaching world, courted equates to someone holding the door open for you once. Secondly, I want a signing bonus. And by a signing bonus, I mean high fives throughout the office. Are low fives back in? Hugs, maybe? I’ll choose my targets wisely. Ladies…
In truth, I am excited. This is a great opportunity for me to begin the career of my choice. The past five years have come to fruition and I am now a full-pledged teacher.
Oorah! Or whatever the Marine equivalent is for teaching? Apple!…?
My mind is all awhirl. I have experienced emotional moments of ascension and submersion. I am going to attempt to bring the vivacious and disconsolate occasions to life in this entry. I am aiming to create a textual dramedy. Let’s see if I am a sharp shooter.
I have not felt the need to record new content on my blog. It is not because I am busy, although that may have contributed to the cause, but it was just a lack of aspiration too. I have even considered relinquishing my role as curator of this blog and allowing it to create its crease into the blemishes of WordPress. Alas, I have decided to stay for now. I considered retirement, but have made my return. I’m like Favre; minus the greatness. Well, and also the penis pictures. I do have wenis pictures though. I always get complimented on the ferocity of my wenis..Come to think of it, those are the only compliments I get. Hm.
While I have given thought to withdrawing from my blog, I have not only been contemplating but enacting my entrance into a new profession. I am currently teaching at my high school alma mater as a “teacher candidate” (AKA student teacher). It is interesting being on the other side. Some of the teachers I had are still around and now that I am among them it is a surreal feeling. Maybe even a sirreal feeling. Sir, you are real…Sometimes people forget that teachers have lives. It’s interesting. Very interesting.
The one thing I am nervous about is censoring myself. I feel that my profession may hinder my comedic ability. I may have to abridge my comedy so that if my blog does trickle down the leg of local community, that it will be a sterile sample. Hopefully that does not cum to fruition because that would be awfully anti-climaxic. i b hopin dat bloggin aint dey flava.
I’ve noticed that censorship has delved into different aspects of my life. It not only affects my career, but I have noticed it affecting relationships I have with people. I may want to inform someone to not go through with something, but I can’t. I may conceal words or not be able to express all the thoughts that percolate from my cranium because it may be deemed inappropriate to my role. I withhold my jaded antics that are emotionally embedded and try to see through to logic and clarity. Who am I to oppose someone’s happiness? Jealousy is not a good look for me…Although I have been told that my method of logic and emotional separation is not kosher and up for debation, I am adhering to my method.
You may be wondering where the dramEDY went in this script. Hold your clydesdales and do not have a bull. Instead have a cow, because this entry is finished.