It is the sorrowful state of procrastinators to end up in the position they most sincerely wished to avoid.

Time has spun forward, and I find myself, on this late spring day pondering my current state. 

A governess works with a small family of children, guiding their early years and shaping their young lives. In contrast, a schoolmarm is responsible for a larger collection of minds, but a more narrow range of study. It is in the latter group that I find myself at present; another spinster turned teacher.

I toil beneath the watchful eye of a stern headmistress, educating a clutch of disinterested and frivolous young ladies more focussed on petty fripperies than the lessons I present them.  It can be most disheartening to know all your work is for naught. Perhaps I dwell too greatly on the little incidents that seem to occur so frequently. I know I should remember the precious moments when the mind suddenly opens, seeing the world as something new and marvelous. I should remember the hands pressed into mine by young women prepared to face the world and grateful for the few things I have added to their understanding. 

Only today I look at the world around me and wonder if there is not something better out there. What happened to adventures and mysterious escapades? When did I become so old? 

I fear this missive is turning into a page of grumbles and groans. I think I will pause here. Hopefully tomorrow I will have recovered my equanimity enough to share my gardening projects and the latest snippets of gossip that you might find of interest. 

With that in mind, I shall leave this poor excuse of a letter unaddressed and unfinished…