"What, about being depressed?" He says. "Then you'll be like every other blogger."
The vote of confidence is inspiring. It does however have a good effect, in that suddenly I see humour in what I am about to do.
"Say "hi" from me to all your bloggy friends." He adds. "Make sure you do." I smile again, and as I start to write, I remember BHT. Similar to BLT in its effect but quite different in form: Blogging Humour Therapy.
It is the first day back at my Stage School. We hurry all the children out of the door, as usual. We all leave at the same time as usual. And we all arrive, as usual.
It has of course been a very busy few weeks. Two parts and several performances in two shows. Easter. Some teaching. A surprise party from the stage school teachers for me. Masses of presents and thanks from wonderfully grateful parents. A positive whirlwind of events.
And now it is a usual Saturday again.
And there the "usuals" end. For in fact, I personally was never there usually when the others were getting ready. And, on a "usual" Saturday I was always already at my stage school when the rest of the family arrived.
But not today.
For it's finished. I am no longer Principal of my stage school. Instead I am a parent of attending children. The whys and wherefores are extraordinarily complex and far too emotionally draining to explain in detail at this point. They will of course be written about in full when I write my autobiographical novel. That will in turn require a modicum of fame and a little more money to allow such a luxury. Neither of such seem to be imminently around the corner - so you'll have to wait......
As I wait today. Sitting outside the stage school as Hubby follows the offspring inside.
Nine years of my life.
Nine years ago I had started. Teaching the 4-6 year olds. Seven years ago I had taken over as the School's principal. Hundreds of children have passed through the school, some briefly, some for quite a while, and some for the whole period that I was there... and now beyond.
ED goes in. She, as well as being part of the most senior set is now also teaching ........... ironically, the 4 to 6 year olds. She teaches brilliantly and fully deserves the job. I am proud. Very proud.
We return at the end of the day to collect. Some of the parents come up and hug me. Some of the children run up to me gleefully. One of the teachers Looks at me doefully and puts her arms around me. She barely speaks, but we both know what is being said.
"She's nice" says another teacher about the new Principal. "It's odd without you though." He adds, almost as an afterthought.
I think back to a few weeks ago, to a very emotional leaving party with everyone declaring undying allegiance to me.
Well........ of course........ they can't really, can they? They all need their jobs. The school still needs to run. The children need to adjust. The new Principal needs to do her job.......... and life must go on.
As the weeks pass they will all miss me less and be involved with the new routine far more.
As they should of course. That is how it should be.
I cry inside. I irritate the family by crying openly.