I was just at Chapters (because what else is there to do on a Tuesday evening after you've watched Miami Ink?) searching for some new books to wallow in for a few days.
The Chapters' Boy finally managed to convince me (yeah he was really twisting my arm...) to get their damn discount card. Upon my response of, "I might as well I'm in here enough". Came his question of, "Are you a teacher?"
After a momentary pause and thinking this would be a fun little tale to weave (my name would be Indira and I would teach high school english at a decent Catholic high school. What?) but I decided against it.
But as I walked across the parking lot I started to think that maybe I had missed my calling. I would love to share my LOVE of books with others. Maybe I should go back to university and become a teacher. I would be helping others. It would give me a real sense of purpose in life.
Then I realized what I was thinking and that teaching kids who didn't get the work of Shakespeare and Chaucer would probably piss me off. Not to mention the fact that I don't really like kids, coupled with my potty mouth and pathological lying tendencies....it's probably for the best that I didn't go into education after all.
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