Pour la premiere fois qui je vis, mon cour fait froid

For some reason, the angrier I get, the more French I remember. Most of what I know of languages is buried deep in the archives of my brain and taken out very rarely, usually just to define a word and not to speak it. On the way home yesterday, I found myself putting together the phrase above. For the first time in my life, my heart is cold.

My principal has taught me the greatest lesson about being an ATR: not only are you expendible, but anything you have been assigned is, at best, temporary. You fill a gap until you have done it well enough not to be there. Then you just sub again until something needs you.

Maybe this is a good way to live?

To expect nothing every day.

Now if a suggestion is made to me about what I should do, my response will be: je m'en moque!

I don't care. When I cared, my feelings seem to have been opposed. Perhaps if I do not indicate what I want, my luck will improve.

Je m'en moque!