Wearing Myself Out
I fell asleep at the dining room table last night, shortly after the last of the kids went to bed. Tim found me slumped over my textbook, pen in hand. At least I wasn't drooling. And at least I didn't fall asleep at dinner time. That would have just been embarrassing.
But how in the world did that happen? I guess I'm feeling the strain. I didn't get enough done for my classes during the summer, and now, I need to make sure my notes are okay and on track. Changes need to be made to exams, study guides are in line to be created, and of course, there is the ever- present grading to be done.
Add all of that to the piles of kids' homework that seem to need me as a life coach, the soccer and piano transport job I take on each fall (thanks, Tim, for bearing the brunt of that soccer), and the bits of volunteer work at the kids school, and this teaching thing is looking like the thorn in my side.
Don't I say this every time I get back into teaching? How nice it is to have time just to sit and think? I don't get that this semester. I don't get time to read a novel, or clean the house or barely sit and take a potty break. The whirlwind of activity is starting to make me feel crabby and obviously tired.
So last week, when the college called and said, Sorry lady, we might not have a class for you next semester, I almost wet my pants with glee.
But how in the world did that happen? I guess I'm feeling the strain. I didn't get enough done for my classes during the summer, and now, I need to make sure my notes are okay and on track. Changes need to be made to exams, study guides are in line to be created, and of course, there is the ever- present grading to be done.
Add all of that to the piles of kids' homework that seem to need me as a life coach, the soccer and piano transport job I take on each fall (thanks, Tim, for bearing the brunt of that soccer), and the bits of volunteer work at the kids school, and this teaching thing is looking like the thorn in my side.
Don't I say this every time I get back into teaching? How nice it is to have time just to sit and think? I don't get that this semester. I don't get time to read a novel, or clean the house or barely sit and take a potty break. The whirlwind of activity is starting to make me feel crabby and obviously tired.
So last week, when the college called and said, Sorry lady, we might not have a class for you next semester, I almost wet my pants with glee.
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