An Angel’s Promise

I entered the classroom. The afternoon air was cool as it entered through the windows. I looked around and saw a board with various posters and schedules on top of it. Then something caught my attention. There was a Post It with my name on it. In fact there were two. Did they know I was coming? It was dark pink in color and my name was written in red glitter. Who writes names with glitter these days? Weird.

Through the window I saw a bunch of school kids outside playing or were they marching? I could not tell. Their uniform crisp from detergent. Their faces bored and upset from standing in the sun. It was a good thing I was old. Would not want to trade places with them even if I had to revisit my youth.

To my left probably for the first time I noticed two other women chatting away about their waxing experiences. Nope not for me. I tried to avoid eye contact. I am terrible at small talk. I prefer long conversations in coffee shops with friends. Or in bars with a well-made cocktail in my hand.

I turned my attention back to the kids. Some were laughing and others were talking out loud. I have this bad habit of time traveling to my past and going through my regrets. Not a good idea for mental health.

I wish I had done some things differently. If God gave me a second chance at life, would I do it all over again? How about having the knowledge of a 30-something person in a 20-something body. Now that would make things way more interesting for sure.

"Miss Harkins. Miss Harkins? The principal is ready to see you now." A pretty young thing behind a desk just notified me. The desk had some cute decorations on it. Figures.

Dang it. I got to stop daydreaming. I hope the principal likes me. Why the eff out of all the careers in the entire universe, I had to choose to become a teacher. FML.