Sometimes I get so stressed at school that my stomach sinks when my foot hits the third step, the one that creaks, and I know I am two more steps from being inside and greeting my long-suffering coworkers, who are undoubtedly vacuuming and dusting and brewing coffee, who will have seemingly aged overnight – and so on.
“Leaving mentality” – what the parents evince when their greener pastures are imminent – is never exactly easy to endure. Some leave because their children outgrow our school and then, well, the parting is melancholy at best and at worst, well, a relief. I have been explaining it, in short stops and bursts, over the course of several days to Elsa. She is new and her eyes are unbelievably wide – so much so that I can no longer watch movies with young, naive protagonists.
I see something more convincing each day, at work, vacuuming and making coffee.