I love my job.

Walking through Target yesterday, the thought actually popped into my head that I a-little-bit envied that girl stocking the shoe department; because when she leaves work, she leaves work. Yeah, I was bitter all weekend because I had hella essays to grade, but still. What a depressing thought. "You love your job. You love your job. You love your job," I kept reminding myself.

Just now, though, one of my students busted into my classroom on a pass from his study-support time in a classroom down the hall. He's all, "Ms. Dahlke, I finished my project!" (They're writing family narratives, and he was having a really difficult time starting it last week.) He was so excited: "It's longer than two pages; I just wanted to add so much detail!" I got all excited for him, and then he's like, "You can read it right now if you want? I mean, I can wait until class later to show you, but I've got it in Ms. B's room. I can bring it here if you want to read it right now?"

How cute. And rewarding. I needed that.