My worst day . . .

. . . here is better than many people's best day there.

That's what an old friend used to say when we marinated in the pessimism of the crummy moments that occur in suburban public school life. I'm reminded of that at the end of a day when I vented a lot to my wife and my dad (who we met for dinner). It's also at the end of the day during which I found out my son said that I complain so much about school that I wouldn't be able to follow his camp's one complaint per day rule.

I'm chagrined.

I need to remember that I had lunch with eleven colleagues and enjoyed all the minutes of it. We like one another, and we generally try to help one another out. It could be much worse. Much worse.

I was granted a day to get my stuff away and check out leisurely. I had the chance to learn from others in a pair of webinars, webinars I got to choose from a menu of options. It could be much worse.

My kids were at a camp that they're so happy at that my son scolded me for being fifteen minutes early.

So, tomorrow, I resolve to rise above the smallness and do great things. If I can get others to do them with me, great. If not, I'll do great things by myself.

I resolve that I will not waste tomorrow.