Middle School: where 'special' is not a noun.

I am feeling nostalgic, reading through some old posts about my school.  The highs and the lows, the good and the bad, things I'd forgotten and things I'll never forget.  Last week, I interviewed for, and was hired for, a middle school librarian job.  I accepted.  I told my principal about it on Friday afternoon, our last day of school, but he had already spoken to my new principal, so he knew before I had a chance to tell him.
We didn't say much, as I think we were both just weary. Tired of the fighting, tired of dealing with one another, tired of being disappointed in each other.  It has been a long school year, and things that happened back in the fall seem like they were a million years ago.  That incident in September faded away, and that child and I had a wonderful year together.  Then the afternoon in October/November, when I saw a teacher do something inappropriate, reported it, and then she resigned. I had a hard time coming to terms with that. The specialists had a meeting in December with our principal regarding our concerns, and that was difficult.  Then, in late February, he and I had that huge blowup.
More recently, I had an incident with a classroom teacher who was treating another specialist rudely.  I was reprimanded in an email from the principal that I promptly deleted.  The only part of what happened with that teacher that I feel even remotely bad about is that it occurred within earshot of students.  The rest of it felt completely justified.
What feels strange is that this year felt like the best year with my students that I've ever had.  We did really meaningful lessons and read great books and just generally enjoyed each other's company and time together.  As always, they made me laugh every day (my favorite part of teaching). I rarely raised my voice and only wrote one referral this whole year.  The kids were happy, I was happy teaching them, but on the administrative front, every step seemed insurmountable.
Teaching on a cart for 3 weeks was completely ridiculous, and I was resentful that I was the only specialist (except for the computer lab teacher) evicted from my space.  She and I are the only two specialists regularly correlating with the grade level curriculum, and we're the ones kicked out of our rooms.  Where is the justice?!?!
So many little things have happened, so slowly, that have made me miserable at this school.  I didn't want to leave just to leave, but I have to admit that there is a little bit of that in my decision.  I will learn to love middle schoolers, and I already love the new library and principal.  Change is good, and I look forward to learning new stuff, reading new literature, designing new lessons, and getting good at something different.

I really identified with that story of the frog in the pot of boiling water.  Things had gotten so bad so slowly that I hardly noticed.  But over the past five or so years, my job has gotten more difficult, I've had less support from administration, more strain with colleagues, and a greater "us vs. them" mentality. It was time to take myself out of that pot before I boiled to death, metaphorically speaking. Middle school will be entirely different, and while I am mentally up for the challenge, I am still quite nervous about it.  The quote in the title comes from my sister, a middle school teacher; I think I will learn to appreciate it more and more every day in my new job.
I dread having to pack up my office and clear out all the crap I've accumulated in the past 9 years.  Ugh... I have no boxes, no big plan, but it has to get done.  I would like to be finished at my current school by Thursday, have a nice long weekend, and move into my new digs the last week of June.  That is my plan.  I'll report back on how it actually goes.