It’s a Thursday afternoon after school and I’m sitting here trying to type out this letter from the soul at the same time as I precariously balance an ice cream cone between my typing fingers, because it’s just been that kind of day. It’s a day that should have been a Friday. In fact, I thought it was for most of the day. The revelation that it was only Thursday led to this melting moment of chocolate disaster on my desk. On the way back from “Operation Ice Cream”, a fellow teacher called me out on “trudging”. One step in front of the other with head down low. Guilty. It wasn’t a bad day altogether, put the sprinkles of little seedy lies has left a bad taste in my mouth and deep ache in my gut. It started last night at an end-of the-year team dinner where I received a nomination for the “Hitler” Award. I laughed it off, knowing that it almost certainly awarded in jest, then let it suck the life right out of me while tryi...