Well, what do you know?

Not much, really.

I'm not a creative person. I'll say this and be greeted with howls of dissent by colleagues who point to some interesting new idea I've whipped up for some subject or whatever. But truly, I'm not awfully creative. Not for me the younger classes with their posters and power points, give me the older kids any day. I can teach them to structure an analysis, no problem, just don't ask me to encourage creative writing. Even when the 40th essay earnestly and erroneously tells me that Atticus didn't change a thing in Maycomb, I push on. Creative writing, sure, I'll give them the standard, "show, don't tell", use lots of adverbs/adjectives, vary sentence length, introduce dialogue, blah blah blah. And when imagination withers, yellows and fails, out comes that old cliche, beloved of the teacher with nothing else to offer:

Write about what you know.

Always slightly surreal telling 16 year olds to write about what they know. Looking back on my life, I can't say I knew a damn thing of import back in that day.

Write about what you know.

I'd like to say goodbye, finally to this stage in my life. I can't see myself continuing to blog about this much, or anything else. Exhaustion presses down on my weary shoulders, yet I ambivalently look around for a light, a path, a solution....anything.

I'm embarrassingly aware of the fact that most Infertility blogs end on a high note, with a BFP, final success, pregnancy and the birth of a kidlet or quite often two, leaving no real need for the continuation of IF-blog-catharsis syndrome.

I'd like to say goodbye, but I guess I still need the outlet.