End of The Tunnel.

My three week experiment in being a highschool math teacher ends tommorow. Mr. Miller really is gone, never to return. Ms. Forrest will be relieved to have her three beloved, heavily used math textbooks back safely in the bookroom. And Mr. Awesome will leave behind the work-a-day monotony of room 315 west and return to the beautifuly, unpredictable life as a day to day sub. The only real loser in this situation is the poor sap that ends up in room 315 west "teaching" highschool math with 34-minute lunches until that far off day sometime in the beginning of June.

What will I say to my kids tommorow in the moments before our tearful goodbyes?

"Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, you're cool, fuck you and fuck you."

I don't know. If I come up with something better to say, I'll let you know.