Baking to me is like therapy. I started baking when I lived in New York and got a Kitchenaid mixer for Christma--I mean Hannukka. I don't do it enough now. Mostly because I don't have roommates to pawn the stuff off on and then I'd just get fat. When I can make enough for my classes I'll do it, but that is more of a chore than therapy!
This was great, I got rid of the bananas, made something delicious, and my whole apt smelled nice. And I got to bring in treats today for a few lucky individuals.
Ms. Bright works across the hall from me. She has been there for advice daily, she's seen my cry, vent and scream, she's taken kids that were driving me crazy, had a 'come to jesus' meeting with them and then just made them work quietly in her room when that didn't work. She's even come and spoken to my class to tell them to wise up. Basically, my life at Whites Creek is better because of her. I was so happy to bring her something I'd made with love to let her know how much I appreciated her help.
She made me feel better too--we talked about my sappy card and she said, "you know, I really appreciate your drive, that you haven't given up yet despite how tough it is." I think there were bets in this school about how long I'd last, not a single one had me coming back after the Holidays, but I am still here. Still plugging away.
I think when I have smushy brown bananas in my freezer, and I know what I need to do with them--I need to just do it. I need to stop being annoyed at them and use them instead for something good. This might be a crappy metaphor, but I'm not an English teacher, so forgive me. The point is, I am going to stop dwelling on what's going wrong, I am going to realize that I am a fighter (just like I wrote in all those b-school/TFA applications) and keep fighting. Keep doing good stuff with what I have, even if it just looks like a mushy old frozen banana. (Now you totally want to try the stuff right? It got rave reviews you know....)
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