One of my dreams is to become a teacher. A good one. In a corner of this country somewhere far away. But it seems so irrational somehow.
Several days ago, I did some kind of job, tutoring a senior year class to head the entry collage exam. Things that I also did last year. But as day by day I come to realized that it wasn't feel like my passion anymore. I mean, I started to feel the pressure like the kids felt. Or am I just too sensitive? Well.
I felt like I didn't want to be teacher anymore.
Looking back, all I wanted is just a simple mattered. Ordinary wage and a work time that ended before the dawn, having meals with husband and the kids, and go to spend the weekends with them.
Am I asking too much?
Am I trying hard enough?
Maybe I'm not.
Several days ago, I did some kind of job, tutoring a senior year class to head the entry collage exam. Things that I also did last year. But as day by day I come to realized that it wasn't feel like my passion anymore. I mean, I started to feel the pressure like the kids felt. Or am I just too sensitive? Well.
I felt like I didn't want to be teacher anymore.
Looking back, all I wanted is just a simple mattered. Ordinary wage and a work time that ended before the dawn, having meals with husband and the kids, and go to spend the weekends with them.
Am I asking too much?
Am I trying hard enough?
Maybe I'm not.
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