Finish Line

So like I said, I had a party this weekend. It was a party for my sister, but I also spread the word that it was to celebrate the fact that I got a job. Which really is a cause for celebration. Almost everyone I talk to tells me how lucky I am to have gotten a job so soon, and from what I read on a teacher message board, they are right. Some of those people are going on dozens of interviews and still not getting anything. Sometimes they don't even get a call back saying they didn't get the job. If I was still looking, I would have been hospitalized by now because of depression and anxiety attacks. So I'm lucky. Or maybe I'm just the best teacher in the world and my school is the lucky one.
Anyway, I got some presents that I'm excited about. Money, and thoughtful cards, and gift cards mostly, but also a briefcase bag type thing to carry all my important papers in, a teacher survival kit filled with cool school supplies as well as tylenol and chocolate, and the most beautiful orchid ever that I'm so afraid I will kill like I killed my last one. But I'm going to try really really hard not to kill it.
I just got back from the store, spending the gift certificate that my lovely friend Michelle and her husband got for me. I met Michelle at our infamous playgroup and love her to death. When I called to tell Michelle that I got a job, she never called me back to congratulate me. I was a little bummed and feeling sorry for myself because Michelle is one of those people like Schell and Sarah who always make you feel good and I knew she would be so happy and bubbly for me. Later I found out she hadn't called because she was in the process of getting diagnosed with cancer. I know, I'm a jerk.
I had a lot of fun buying stuff for my room, which is almost done. I only have a little more time to work on it. Today really is my last day of vacation. Tomorrow I have meetings and then orientations, and then we start.
I have had redecorating my bedroom and planning the party to distract me until now. That's all finished and I have nothing else to do but lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, and think about how bad I will mess up. OK that's not exactly true. I don't stare at the ceiling, I sleep on my side so I stare out the window.