What Could Be

 I awoke from a dream early Thursday morning. I was rounding the corner to a full week of being away from school, which seemed like the appropriate moment for me to have a "what-else-could-go-wrong" dream. Breakfast was late coming out of the cafeteria. The white board was full of names of staff that were not going to be in that day. A lone substitute stood at the counter in the office unsure about what to do next. The copier was overflowing due to a jam someone left without clearing. Outside the shrill voices of children tormenting one another could be heard as I attempted to do some triage on the situation. In my dream, it was setting up to be a very long day. 

What is significant to me is not how bizarre and out of place I felt. Instead, it felt like a thousand other days I have experienced at my job. The fact that I was having this matter-of-fact dream about circumstances beyond my control but it did not matter was part and parcel of being a teacher. 

And I confess: On Wednesday night, I took a peek at a job listing. For another school.

The reality of my situation is this: right now the odds seem to be running at about an even fifty-fifty split as to whether or not the school where I work will actually be closed at the end of next year. That means that a year from now I will be starting the process of disconnecting from the mothership, the one that brought me here. The place that made me what I am today. Why wouldn't I want to take at least a cursory look around to see what's out there? What are my options? At least four people at my site asked if I was thinking about retiring. So I thought about it. I suppose the challenge there is that I would rather jump than be pushed, and my thoughts about leaving the teaching profession are not fully formed as yet. 

Which is probably why, in the middle of the night during my spring vacation, I was visited by ghosts of Elementary School present. It was a peppy little reminder of what awaits me in part or as a whole when I wake up next Monday. And the Monday after that. Of course I don't have dreams where everything is going smoothly and the kids are surprising me with their attention and interest. Those things happen too. But they aren't the things that pop up out of the early morning haze, bolstered by the guilt of even considering a change of venue. 

I wonder what dreams await me in the coming year.