One day you lose something, and you say: ‘Oh my God. I was happy. And I didn’t even know it.’
― Unknown, Humans of New York (via textposter)
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I have so many reasons to hate monday mornings. But at least a job I dislike isn’t one of them.

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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.

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

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