Dealing with grief.

I'm a counseling intern. At a middle school. And a high school.

The high school wants to start a grief group for kids that are dealing with the loss of a loved one. And I get to invite the grieving students to join the group. First one on my list is *Bobby. (*Name changed for confidentiality.)

I pulled Bobby out of class.
Me: "We're putting together a grief group for students that have lost loved ones. In light of your recent loss, we'd like to invite you to attend this group to gain support and give support to others."
Bobby: "Mmmmmmmm..... I haven't really lost anyone."
Me: "Oh. Really?"
Bobby: "Well, like.... my great-grandpa died a long time ago."
Me: "Your parents are both still alive?"
Bobby: "Yea."
Me: "Ohhhh..."
Bobby: "Like...my dad...lost...his leg a about 9 years ago? Would that count?"
Me: "No. Probably not."

I really hate dealing with grief.

Cool Kids.

If you're like me, you wake up every morning believing you are basically the coolest.

Then you go through your day.

And by the time you're climbing into bed that night, you have discovered a truth. You are not cool.

I've recently started my internship in the counseling office at the Morgan School District. I'm trying to decide whether I love it or hate it. But either way, I'm learning. Learning how I'm not cool.

For example:
Today we had a "New Student Orientation". The counselor I'm shadowing was going around introducing everyone to the new students. Principal, vice principal, counselors. And then came my turn to be introduced as I WAS standing in the line-up of people to be introduced.

The introducer-er pointed directly at me.

I pulled one of these:

It's just my little way of saying, "Hey hey. Where's the coolest counselor? Right here. That's me."

And just as I struck this pose, some chubby old dude walked in front of me. 

"Oh boy, you guys! This is a super important person to know right here. He's the school janitor!!! And if you need help getting into your lockers, he's the one to know," says school counselor. (I'm not a man. I'm not a janitor.) The janitor who just happened to be wandering through the "New Student Orientation" stole my moment. My light. My shine.

Pose quickly turns to this:

It's just my little way of saying, "Yea! Look at that guy over there! Coolest janitor right there."

I never actually got introduced.

Please let me make it through this internship. And please let go to bed some night still thinking I am cool.