I loved school growing up.

It's not like I was some overly-sappy kiss up to the teacher, but I definitely worked hard to be the best in my classes. In almost every class I had, after maybe fifth grade, I'd picture how I'd teach the class.

It was almost too distracting when someone wasn't good at their job.

My folders were clutched in my arms as I made my way through the school. The entire campus was quiet, save for the couple of teachers who were wandering the halls. It was ...