This Is Entirely The Wrong Hat

I am obsessed. I'm going to be blunt: What the hell am I going to do for a job?

Reignite a previous career? Fan the flames of a new passion? Start a fire on some as-yet-unknown occupation? It's a hot topic for me. I meet people " What do you do?"  I talk to people who know me well " What do you think I should do?"

Brian, who presumably, knows me very well suggested I teach.

As in School.

As in kids.

I can honestly say I had never entertained this option in my life. When other little girls were playing school, I was climbing the apple tree to see what the world looked like as a bird. And to get a snack. I teach Sunday School, but only to high school age classes. Little kids en masse scare me.

One of my Bleacher Buddies echoed Brian " You have a degree, you can sub. Work when the kids are in school, turn down assignments when you are busy. If you like it you can go back to college and get your certificate. It's perfect." Problem solved was in the word bubble over her head.

So I used my ( overactive) imagination. I imagined what a day as a teacher would look like. The first round was overly simplified, and quite idealistic. Hey, maybe teaching would be good..then I imagined the kids not listening to me, asking me what the square root of pi is or the capital of Obscuristan. So many eager minds listening to my every word. I know where Noah learned his colorful language, what if I taught them that? My palms began to sweat.

" Mrs V," says the faceless imagined student " I keep looking at this map of Pennsylvania and I can't find Pine Valley ANYWHERE!"

I accepted it. I never, not once in my life, entertained the thought of being a teacher. It is one of those occupations where passion FOR THE JOB ( yeesh, what a world, huh?) should be a requirement. I would not want a me standing in front of my children posing as a teacher.

That hat was an easy no-fit. It looks fabulous on others, thought it might fit , but when I put it in my head--nope. Back to the hat rack I go.