My school board has decided, in its wisdom, to chop funding for primary literacy.  Twenty-two half-time positions (eleven people, three of whom are my friends) will be gone by the end of the school year.

And the muckety-mucks that okayed this horseshit  will scratch their brainless heads a couple of years from now and wonder why little Billy and Sally (in Grade Six) can't fucking read above a Grade Two level.  Yeah.  Good luck with all that.  (Are they completely unaware that their vaunted primary Provincial test scores are less than stellar now?)

To mix a couple of metaphors -- and then a nice stiff drink -- I'm thinking it's maybe time to hang up my spurs and sail off into the sunset.