
Hoping    none of my current or former students ate it. In retrospect, that's    probably a shitty thing to say, but it was my first thought. Thoughts    and Prayers seems worse.

Left campus five minutes before it began. Got the text before I hit the highway.

It's  paralyzing, ya know? Seems like we can't do shit about it. Nobody who    matters will ever consider gun control. Shit man, nothing left after    that. Bought a bulletproof vest. Coming Friday. Gonna wear that now, I    guess. Cause it will happen again. And again. And again. And again. And    all that you can really do is hope it doesn't happen to you. You hope    it's not in your classroom. You hope you graduate first. You hope  they   miss you. You hope another person gets in the way. "At least I'm  safe".   "At least I'm not the one that died". Some people have  survivors guilt.   It's kinda morbid, but I really don't. It wasn't me,  this time. After   that, I hope it wasn't one of mine. After that,  well...not like I know   them. Even being that close to it, I feel like  it was a world away.  Like  some newsreel footage from Iraq. "80  terrorists killed!" That's 80  lives taken. Not lost, taken. By force.  By a bullet. Not mine though.  Keep calm and carry on.

Oh, and for the "arming teachers" folk: I will not carry a gun in my classroom. Class is for learning, not for shooting.