It’s Friday. Finally, Friday.

This was my first week at work, and the first week back to school for my students. I adore them, and I adore my job, but I’ve been tired ever since I decided to dig my way into my other dream career.

I wake up tired, play mental games just to get up and commute, and then the moment I step inside, everything changes. The hours fly by like I’ve never experienced before. Not on holiday, not on a date, nowhere. My whole mind is taken up by what’s in front of me: the curriculum, the conversations, the social and behavioral concerns, the educational goals, the care. The hours slip away with every transition.

When school ends, I rush to teach elsewhere. Different place, different faces, same rhythm: focus, energy, connection. Again, the hours vanish. They fly by.

By the time I’m home, I don’t even think about the stairs. I never do. My keys dangle from the tip of my finger and I have no energy left for neighbors I rarely see.

But I’m excited. It’s my time now, all for me, all to myself. My partner, the chance to explore a different career, and finally, the time to read and write without rush, make those hours magical. And those truly fly by.

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