Get Your Tutor On

The actual desk where the magic happens.

One of the several jobs I hold in order to maintain my ultra-fabulous wine country lifestyle is tutoring.

I fancy myself a pretty great tutor actually: I pepper legitimate academic suggestions with hilarious personal anecdotes and ultra-relevant current events. Basically the whole thing is as much an ego-trip as it is a means of supporting myself.

One of my students has been a particular struggle since the beginning. A Panamanian, English as a Second Language, 21-year-old mother with a 5-year-old daughter, trying to put herself through community college. I feel like I need a shower every time I take her money.

So you’ll understand my distress upon receiving the following text from her yesterday, a mere 30 minutes before her scheduled appointment:

“I’m a little buzzed. Is that okay?”

Good for her! Drinking is fun! She deserves fun!

But also - no. It’s really really not okay.