Gratitude Reflection In The Drive-Thru

The nearest Starbucks is only five minutes away from me. I take advantage of this when I have to wake up early in the morning - earlier than 7 am, anyway. This Monday, and the next dozen Mondays after, I'll be needing to wake up early so I can teach a class on writing in time at an elementary school that is one of many schools near me.

I live in a prime spot for housing, but that also means the hottest spot for traffic. A minute means the difference between early and on time, and you know the saying, "Early means on time. On time means late. Late means don't bother coming in at all."

I take this quote religiously, and it's paid off for me in big ways. I'm known as the reliable teacher; the one that gets in early, who you can expect to see prepared and ready. I've been able to teach extra classes and make extra money this way as well as garner a very good reputation with the schools around me. It's a part of my brand.

But dammit I hate teaching before I've had my coffee.

As the co-teacher for the class, I was able to sit back and help with the smaller tasks like grading and passing out materials with a smile on my face while the morning-happy co-teacher does the lecture. I help the students with their questions, the parents with their concerns, and my partner with the content. I'm appreciated by the parents, especially when it's a before-school class, and the kids build up to liking me. I make jokes and lighten the mood. I make improvements. If the co-teacher has to leave for something, I pick up the ball and finish the lesson smoothly and successfully.

When the clock strikes for the end of class, I'm out the door on my way to Starbucks.

Unfortunately for me, this Starbucks is also right across from the dentistry that I worked at for a year and a half. I've got more than a year's worth of memories of anxiety twisting my gut and giving me the shakes, of shame and humiliation burning my face and turning my words into a stutter, of tears pricking my eyes and threatening to fall down.

"Toxic workplace", I used to put as a reason for leaving on job applications. Now it's just 'going into a new direction' or 'finding a new place where I align with its goals'.

I didn't feel like a failure or a loser in that place. Nobody will ever make me feel like that again; I've got the therapy bills to prove it.

But I was wracked with the anxiety to do well, because every minute of my time was monitored, and every task I was assigned had to be done perfectly - or else the business suffered. I had to make and reinforce the schedules and appointments. And I didn't get the respect, support, or appreciation I needed from my bosses or coworkers.

For someone who wasn't a robot, this pressure was slowly crippling me. And I didn't even go to school for this.

Now, I'm using my master's degree everyday, and I'm good at it. I get to talk about topics I find interesting and important. I get to breathe, I get to make mistakes and own them and move on. And I have a great rapport with my fellow teachers and students.

I taught almost every week at a summer camp this year, and my mom said it was like I had a bounce in my step. My smile is wider. My posture screams confidence and purpose.

It may be a situation where I earn more money per hour but less per day, but it's a great situation for me in this economy. Something that I enjoy doing, where opportunities for me open up as I grow my skills and reputation.

Every time I drive through that Starbucks, I don't just feel gratitude for the person who invented coffee. I feel grateful for a job that I enjoy.