"You'll get used to working your teacher muscles."
When I walked next door this afternoon to Mrs. Burgess' room, she greeted me cheerfully, as she has done all week. What a blessing she has been, giving me fabric, glue guns, school supplies, advice, etc. Even better, her attitude is typical among the teachers, constantly sharing, guiding, helping, and encouraging me as a new teacher. Despite the fact that I can't fall asleep at night, am behind on lesson planning, have been left alone with Sally, and am working 15-hour days, I love my job. I love Grace Academy, and I love the people who make up our faculty.
Anyway, back to Mrs. Burgess' advice. After I asked some other novice teacher question (probably about laminating, my new favorite past time), I told her that the muscles in my right hand were really sore. For that matter, really the entire lower half of my right arm was sore. Did she know why such strange muscles were aching? Indeed she did. "The stapler," she responded. The extremely difficult (and I'm not being sarcastic) task of stapling boards, fabric, poster, and paper to the walls of my tangerine-colored classroom has produced a build-up of lactic acid in my hand. Definitely one of the many surprises that the teaching profession has brought me thus far.
