I got the principal job, which you’d think would feel like… I don’t know, a victory lap maybe? Like finally, a bit of open air after years of just… treading water, trying to keep my head up. But it feels more like I’ve somehow ended up in the deep end, and everyone else already knows how to swim, and they’ve all been doing laps together for decades. Like, Ms. Henderson in the art department? She taught my dad, for crying out loud. Mr. Davies in science has been here longer than the building itself, I swear. And they just… watch me, kind of. Like a strange new animal that’s wandered into their territory. Every staff meeting feels less like a meeting and more like a performance where I’m the newbie, trying not to trip over my own feet while they exchange these knowing glances, these almost imperceptible sighs. It’s like they’re waiting for me to falter, to prove that I’m just some kid who got lucky, not someone who actually EARNED this. It’s just… I grew up hearing stories about places like this, places where people stayed their whole lives, where the walls held generations of stories. My folks always talked about how a good union job, a steady paycheck, that was the dream. And this *is* steady. This *is* a good paycheck, more than I’ve ever seen really. It means I can maybe, just maybe, stop checking my bank account balance three times a day like it’s some kind of magic eight ball. But it also means I’m the one in charge now, and I feel like a fraud. Like I’m wearing a suit that’s maybe two sizes too big, trying to pretend it fits. When I walk down the hall, sometimes I can almost feel their eyes on my back, the weight of all those years they’ve put in, all those unspoken rules and traditions I don’t even know exist yet. It’s heavy, kind of. Like a cloak made of old whispers. And I guess I’m just… angry, mostly. Angry at myself for feeling this small when I should be feeling proud. Angry at them for making me feel like an outsider in a place I’m supposed to lead. It’s like they've built this invisible wall, brick by brick, with every single year they’ve been here, and I’m just on the other side, looking in, trying to find the door. And maybe there isn't one. Maybe I just have to figure out how to climb over it, but right now, it feels impossibly high.