I was standing in the library of my old school this morning, waiting for the next round of testees, when my phone chimed with a text notification. The screen displayed the former assistant principal's name and a message asking whether I was free to talk briefly. I was, and as I waited for her call, I looked around the room. It was practically unchanged in the decade since she retired, and I thought of all the meetings we had sat in there over the twenty years we worked together. My phone buzzed, and I smiled to hear her voice.
The business at hand today was not educational in the least; she needed a sub for her summer bowling league and wondered if I could do it. "Yes, ma'am," I said, since after all, she was the boss.
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