Kayla Weglarski

It was a dreary November day, nothing special or different than the rest of the bland month. However, I walked into school that morning feeling awful. My eyes seemed to only be half open and I felt like I was dragging weights around. My head was a foggy mountain of thoughts. I felt like I could cry at any moment, waiting for the salty water to spill from my eyes. This was what being burnt out felt like. At least that’s what Mrs. Tanner told me. As soon as I walked into mindfulness class that morning she immediately knew something was up. She looked at me, her face full of concern and asked if it was ok to give me a hug. She had no idea how much I needed that hug. She held me for a little while and then I slumped down into my seat. I plopped my computer on my desk, opened it and saw the low battery warning. Of course, of all days it’s dead today, I thought. Reluctantly I pushed my chair back to get up when she quickly walked over and grabbed it out of my hands, plugging it in. About 15 minutes into class as I was intently staring at the posters on the walls, I saw a small piece of paper slide onto my desk. It was a note from Mrs. Tanner, saying to take the pass and go for a walk. I jumped up and grabbed the little Sully figurine from Monsters INC, wrapping my fingers tightly around it. Mrs. Tanner had unknowingly made my not-so-great day a little bit better, and I will always be thankful for that moment.