Adam had his last game of the regular season today (It's like NHL hockey-- everybody makes the playoffs). We had a lot of great conversations this weekend, and went over to best friend Jim's barbecue Saturday night (Kim had previous committments with some old friends, and my step-daughter is visiting her grandparents), where I had a good talk with Jim while Adam charmed the socks off of everybody at the party. On the way home, while Adam told me why he found adults more interesting than people his own age, I got a call from The Elk, who was just getting out of the Cheap Trick concert downtown. He got to our house right when we got there, and he and Adam snookered me into a game of Risk, despite my fatigue.
Today, I return to work for four weeks-- I'm teaching summer school, and then am done with my teaching career. And this morning, they're scheduled to begin the renovation of our kitchen and bathroom. Most of it should be done at the end of two weeks, when our kids will be back.
As Kim and I finished clearing out the kitchen, all the while figuring out places to store the stuff, she laughed and commented on the fact that I hadn't seen the kitchen this way since the day I moved in there nearly 9 years ago, with my ex-wife Cynthia. Adam had been commenting earlier today about how long we'd lived here-- that I'd moved into this nearly ten years ago. His mother has moved frequently, and this has been the place that's been his home through that. It seems like a year ago, and it seems like a hundred years ago, moving into this place. Kim and I joked that if we can survive this renovation, we can survive anything.
I had to move some things out-- the garden table that I'd used as a kitchen counter and the wine cart I'd used as a kitchen island (both in great shape and free to anyone who'll pick them up-- I need to start using Bubs' new service, the Please Take My Crap.
As we finished up, and we retired to the back porch for relaxation and red wine, it occurred to me that when I'd moved into this place, I was just starting my first full-time job as a teacher. I've alluded to the fact that I'm now leaving the profession; I've decided to try to get a Pharmacy Degree. There are a lot of reasons for these decisions-- leaving teaching and trying to enter a new one. First is that I'm just tired of all the crap that goes along with teaching-- stupid administrators, being a substitute parent, and of course the whole direction the profession is going-- it's sucking every last bit of inspiration, innovation and fun out of the job. And secondly, bluntly, I'd rather spend my last 20-some years making six figures rather than the pitiful amount I've been making the last nine years-- so little that I've had to work a second job. Teaching is terribly underpaid, and will be so for the foreseeable future.
So along with the changes in our surroundings, I'm about to embark on what hopefully will be a 5 to 6 year journey to change professions. I think we're ready.