Sometimes

Sometimes, as it says in an Old 97's lyric, "the day just wins."

You feel discouraged by the attitudes of those around you, both students and teachers.

You are tasked with cleaning out a storage closet belonging to the hoarding-happy department chair. (She has apparently come to the conclusion that things like the tops to Snack Packs are essential to instruction.)

The next class period, you have to corral antsy kids in the auditorium, and all your yelling and frustration smush your soul a little bit.

Your next class, you do some one-on-one instruction with a kid who has the attention span, charm, and physique of a mosquito.

Lunch. You have half an hour to savor your PB & J. (You gave up bringing microwavable lunch weeks ago, when the teachers' lounge was reduced to one working 'wave.)

You make it through your next three classes daydreaming.

You hurry home to change, so you can run some errands before your exercise class. The gym is brutal, but in a therapeutic way.

You have a hot shower, and a good dinner, but the things you heard and felt and saw just hang on you.

You talk to loved ones, who brighten your spirits.

You make an earnest effort to have a good cry/pray, thinking that would renew you. All you can squeeze out are a few anxious tears.

You stay up 'til midnight eating.

But then sometimes, things are different... even the very next day.

The teachers have activities that they are excited to share with the students, who are eager and receptive.

The expired Nescafe crystals and empty baby food jars in the storage closet strike you as weirdly funny.

The students in the auditorium are calmer.

Your one-on-one student from yesterday chooses to be with you again, rather than stay in class. You accomplish a lot together.

The teachers you eat lunch with are cheerier (partially because of the cheesecake someone brought, which you are strong enough to resist, BTW).

You do pull-out instruction with 3 "troublemakers." They work well, and are enchanted by your illustrations of the concepts you teach them. One even murmurs, "Thank you, Miss...for teaching us."

You hurry home, and go for an amazing run. The 10K you have coming up doesn't seem so menacing.

You write a blog, work on an art project, and talk to those you love.