I have so many reasons to hate monday mornings. But at least a job I dislike isn’t one of them.


What do you do when a young African girl is picking on a young white boy because he’s called her racial slurs in the past yet hasn’t done anything wrong in the present? It’s so goddamn hard to work with young children, especially ones who have such intense brain-washer white power parents. (who fly a confederate flag in the middle of their mostly ethnic neighborhood.) It’s hard.


Just gotta keep telling myself, 1, 2 or 3 weeks 200 miles away is lightyears easier than 3 months thousands of miles away.


How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.

Winnie the Pooh (via psych-facts)

(via abjectd)


theme by modernise