another end.

I stand at the doorway with hands on hips. As I look around, I notice less about the room than I do about myself. My hair hangs like cobwebs in my face. The white t-shirt commemorating some 5k I don't even remember is riddled with smudges of dust, sharpie marker, and God-knows-what. It seems like just yesterday (cliche?) that I was standing in this same position, staring at and empty room. The only difference is that it was only the beginning. My hair was cleanly pulled back, the t-shirt was still clean (and I think it was gray). I too was different. It seems that each year I seem to grow and streeeetch myself, as do my students. I am just a little bit older, a little bit wiser, and the smile lines on my face are just a little bit deeper. I have big plans for next year...but they will have to wait, as I spin on my heels...take a deep breath, and close the door on yet another adventure.