Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow, Part Two

Well, it had to come to an end--12 weeks of quizzes, tests, computer lab, fire drills, literature, and more flew by and yesterday was my last day as a high schooler. Which means that today was my first day back to my old life, and sweet as it was to have lunch in a room free of copy machines and coffee makers(every teacher has her own), I felt a little mischievous cruising the streets before 3:45, kind of like a truant senior on skip day. Hard to believe just months ago I was lamenting the return to the world of academia and counting the days until I could return to my "normal" life. Twelve weeks later, I'm not sure I know what normal is.

I know people who look at me as if I have three heads when I mention I teach high school, either that or I get the look of pity that screams, "thank you for your service," as if high school were somehow equivalent to daily ambush on a battle field in a high security war zone. Those folks don't know what they are missing.

I love reading vocabulary sentences where I am the main topic, consistently referred to as Miss Kirk, despite the fact that Mr. Kirk could be found two halls over.

I love hearing how awesome and pretty I am, never mind the fact the compliments always came on the day of a major test.

I love being confidant to a junior girl on the brink of her first major crush, sharing in all the innocence of first love.

Cheerleading drama. Enough said. I have no daughters, so I fulfill all my high school girl drama with other people's kids.

Challenges: "Hey, Mrs. Kirk, you think you could outrun me?" Sorry, hun. I realize Georgia Tech is recruiting you, but if it's me and you and a 12 miler, I WILL WIN! Alas, all good things must come to an end, which means now I seek my compliments from my Senior Citizens instead of the senior class of 2012; instead of making surreptitious laps around the lunchroom to keep up with the latest styles in clothing, music, and gadgets, I'm forced to do real research so my own kids think I'm naturally "cool." The only running challenge I have is the guy with the artificial leg, and even I couldn't be that cocky; and my own elementary boys are beginning to be creeped out by my incessant questions on cheerleader tryouts, gossip, and fifth grade relationships. All I can say (and i say it with a smile) is "You can take the girl out of the high school, but you can't take the high school out of the girl." Now don't forget to vote for me for Prom Queen, er, Teacher of the Year!