I like you a lot. You challenge me, motivate me and reward me. We’ve been together 6 years now and have shared some very special times. Because of you I’ve taught children to read, write, count and think. I have boxes upon boxes of thank you cards. Some from parents with beautifully written messages inside but most are drawings of me with three eyes and blue hair – I love them all.
Job you’ve made me a better person. I’m more patient, harder working and stronger than I was when we first got together. You’ve made me resilient. I can now sit in meetings about unspeakably horrible cases of child abuse and not even wince, let alone cry.
Without you Job, I would never have met so many of my closest friends or my future husband. You introduced me to politics and made me realise it was too important to be ambivalent about. It was because of you I went on my first rally.
I’ve learnt to speak publically, sung dozens of songs, ran clubs, written plays, stories and poems, dressed as a fish, dressed as a bear and baked a lot. I’ve learnt how to plot linear equations, play tag rugby and use a semi-colon. Job – all of these were opportunities you gave me. I am so grateful.
I’ve been the cause and the cure for tears. I’ve had thousands of children sing happy birthday to me. I’ve had the pleasure of watching 30 children see a baby chick hatch from an egg. I’ve watched light bulb moments and seen the frustration when a child just doesn’t “get it.”
Job at this point I also want to say thank you for the holidays.
However Job, there are some things you do that I don’t like. I don’t like that we spend 12 hours a day together and I really don’t like that you follow me home. I don’t like that you leave me with just 4 waking hours each day to spend time with my husband-to-be or to see my lovely friends and family. I don’t like that you constantly make me doubt myself and question whether I’m doing enough. I hate that no matter how hard I work the lives of the children I teach don’t seem to get any better. I resent that I spend most of the year grey and exhausted. If I’m honest Job – you’re becoming impossible.
I eagerly await your response.