Before I went to the school Friday morning, I had been plagued with horrible images of the future. I would start getting anxious, silently having an internal battle. You're not meant to do this. What do you think you're doing? But this is the only thing I have ever wanted to do! If I can't teach, what am I supposed to do with myself?

I really don't know how to explain it. There was something about walking into the school Friday morning that I suddenly felt anxious, but in a good way. I was jittery and giddy. The school was so welcoming, offering coffee and hot chocolate before the school day began. All of the teachers were so polite to me, shaking my hand as if I was the newest member of the faculty. And my mentor teacher. She was so sweet! She was a little frazzled because all of the class periods were shortened (Mandatory mass), but she still made sure to fill me in with all that she was doing. During the classes, I sat on the side and watched, but in between the classes, she would show me the students' projects, telling me which kids she thought she was going to have some problems with and why. When there was a very disruptive student in one of her classes, she filled me in on how she had him as a student before and that he was actually really good academically. She kept me in the loop, and it made me feel very wanted there.

The day was long and tiring, but I can't wait until next Friday.