This week was pretty proud of myself. I was handling everything at school so well! I was lending a hand when asked, grading my quizzes and tests in a timely manner, operating, in general, like a well-oiled machine.

          Yesterday I walked into school, feeling supremely confident I was taking on, and would continue to take on, every challenge that came my way. I taught my seniors in the library tech center, which went well; next came my free period, so I made myself a cup of tea and went to the teacher’s lounge to prepare for the next class. It wasn’t long after that that the middle school dean came looking for me because I’d totally messed up my schedule. It was Thursday, not Wednesday, and I had a roomful of impatient seventh graders waiting for me, for whom I was ten minutes late.

          Just like that, the climate changed. I’d been deluding myself. I was not a good teacher, in fact, I was a crappy teacher, quite possibly the worst teacher ever. As elevated as my opinion about myself had been earlier, that’s how low it had fallen now.

          A bit later, I went to study hall- which I knew I was not proctoring because I was now obsessively checking the schedule posted above my desk every few minutes-and I saw the kids were there unsupervised. The teacher who was supposed to proctor was nowhere in sight. I covered for him, and when he came running in, apologizing for his mistake, I told him not to worry. The truth is, I was grateful for the opportunity to attempt to even slightly redeem myself.

          So, yesterday was a reminder that I’m not a well-oiled machine; far from it. I am light years away from perfect, but the good news is I am human, and even better, I’m not alone.