"Name's Arthur Boone, but you can call me Boone." ~Teacher, mechanic, bartender ~Member of @LostLakeRP ~MCRP 18+ ~Dm to plot https://t.co/Sx00ZCPWhs

I always forget to damn tag folks. I get involved.

~emails to parents next begging them to please send it in. Not my worries now, because I was ready for home, a drink, and to see the lady I loved. @BlitheBeaut

~rather do it with than her. It was near five, and I locked the papers and gradebook in the desk. None of that tonight. It was nothing but office paperwork anyhow, and I'd be damned if I took any of that home. It'd be weeks before it all got to me anyways, and it would be ~

~decade, and even then it was brief. Was I terrified of the idea? Abso-damn-lutely, but. I loved kids and their curiosity, their logic and God knows they never left a moment dull. Raising one of our own, and seeing them grow, and doing it with Britt--there wasn't anyone else I'd~

~was. And I was too, at that. We were just us, taking it a day at a time and, for me, easily loving her a little more every day I woke up. The baby, though, was really a shock. Could I? Shit, only with her, the baby whisperer. I'd not so much as held one, at least in the last ~

~want to try to make a goal with anyone, for obvious reasons. Britt's appearance in my life was absolute happenstance, and I stood by it being one of the best lucks of the draw I'd ever had. She didn't push anything. She was just glad to be there, happy with her life as it ~

~my first courses: fresh and new and probably much-needed reach out of the comfort zone for all of us. Even at home. I know easily, for a minute, Britt really threw me on my head. /A baby./ I hadn't ever placed a thought on kids or not. After my college days, I didn't ~

~worthless, as usual. It was hard to grab attention from kids when they were talking about summer vacations, but once had it was similar to college: here's my syllabus, here's what I expect from you for the year, exams were 45% of the grade, yada yada. Highly reminiscent of ~

~them were students before, a couple from my first year of teaching. To see them just shy of graduating was surreal, but it sparked a bit of excitement in me that I would have the opportunity of having another hand in helping them to that epic milestone. Day one of classes was ~

~of kids who were...well, older, obviously. There were the quiet kids in the back alone, the chatty and clique-ish ones who vied and bartered for seats together, and the ones who'd been prepared for this day since their final was turned in last year. Not all, but many of ~

Rain pattered against the window pane of the classroom, the only accompaniment since the kids had left, aside from an occasional door slam from a fellow teacher. It was a long first day, and I won't lie that I felt out of place. The kids I met today were these erratic mixtures~

I believe it's #WCW, and who better to give it to than the sweetest thing since the sweet tea at the town's cafe, @BlitheBeaut.

< pissed off parents that wouldn’t appreciate the lectures about dinosaurs and North vs. South. High school was going to prove to be difficult, but anyone who doesn’t accept change, was foolish. Wasn’t that the saying?

< home I spent evenings planning a first week of lessons, since my tried and true ones were no longer the level and our assigned books wanted to dabble in touchy issues like evolution and the Civil War, I felt a streak of doom on those: some equally touchy, >

< now, only with kids who actually loved school and all the excitement that came with it. i spent my summer dismantling my room, sorting district property from my own and leaving a box of materials that would do some teacher good, but not me anymore. At >

< adjustment. Block class times that imitated that of college days were the new, versus the 50 minute classes I’d done for years. I would be stuck in the rooms with these moody teenagers, hoping what I said stuck. But that was more or less what I was doing >

< down in two months. Polk’s beady eyes gleamed when I accepted my new fate, like I was no longer one of the problems he had to fix before the end of the day. He shook my hand, and he began to babble about the curriculum for my new classes. Talk about >

< would be uprooting and moving elsewhere, and that was out of the question. I’d gone to school specifically to teach /here/. It was my goal from junior year on, and I was happy here. I had family, friends, a house, /Britt/...that was too much to flip upside >

< quite sure if I could entertain the thought as such. I had nothing against the older kids, I was just accustomed to the younger ones who were more...well, enthusiastic about learning. But I didn’t have a real choice, did I? If I said no, my only option >

< well—out of a job. I was a little floored, because I’d been in the same classroom for going on six years, comfortable and confident in my teaching. “Think of it as a promotion,” Polk tried, nodding a balding head to the novella in front of me. I wasn’t >