The invitation is not for me/Приглашение не для меня - стр. 18
Refuse to shop in front of them? I'm not that crazy yet. They'll think it's some kind of compensation. Television now shows so many "interesting" programs that even an innocent gesture can be suspected!
I had to limit myself from saying goodbye to him. But there's still gossip to be had! This jerk got out of the car and even said hello to them. The women put on their glasses and squinted suspiciously at Andrew and the car. But I got disapproving looks. As a matter of fact, I didn't really want to. I don't pretend to like everyone. After all, I'm not a hundred dollar bill!
The shopping trip turned out to be, I would even say, extravagant. It left me with a strange sense of shame. I realized belatedly that it was possible to not make a scene in the store, and coldly say "Thank you!" and proudly leave.
But anger gave me courage, and for starters I wrote a letter of resignation, turned on my phone, and sent it electronically.
Of course, the school administration was not satisfied with it in this form, and I was told to bring it. Scolding and angry, I got dressed again and went to school.
I had to hand in all of my work, classwork, and reports. The only consolation was that by that time the school was finishing the second shift and half of the students and teachers had left.
But I still received my portion of shame. If the principal remained condemningly silent, my former colleagues tried to find out the details, falsely sympathizing with my departure. I weakly fought back, trying to convey that I did not want to talk about it, but it did not help. As a result, the entire process of dismissal took two hours, and I came out of school not just wrung out, but as if ground up.
When I got to the bus stop, I sat down and cried.
Being a teacher is not just working in a school, it's a whole way of life. You take work home, checking notebooks, writing reports, plans, running with plans "from above" when you need to hand in something, collect, and learn. You often argue, want to quit, and even sometimes move to another school. And at the same time, you get attached to children, sincerely rejoice in their successes, and cry at all graduations. Unplanned and sudden dismissal is like losing a part of your soul!
Although I wrote the application myself, nevertheless, in the back of my mind, I hoped that they would ask me to stay: it is not easy to find a teacher in the middle of the year.
They didn't. Good, at least they didn't throw my things at me, or even "better" – in the garbage, snidely telling me where to find them later. Feeling broken and lonely, I climbed onto the bus and hid from the world with the help of music in my headphones.