I've been carrying the white flag of surrender with me for the entire semester. I've been waiving it with messages declaring, "I can't. I won't. It's impossible. I need help. This is ridiculous. I give up. Send in troops."
Not much was done to appease my situation, and I simply endured.
I returned from LRA in Nashville at 11 pm last night and as soon as I entered my house my first thought was, "I bet I get really sick now."
Instead, I had Chitunga greeting me with his big smile and an acknowledgement, "You know the new coasters you bought for the coffee table? Um, Glamis chewed them. I told you she doesn't like when you leave the house."
I have to feel somewhat bad for the dog (and the kid) because I've been gone a lot this month. I forecasted it in August, but no matter how much I warn everyone, it doesn't sink in until the actions are put into place. It is literacy conference month and 8 presentations later, I can finally say, "I survived."
I'd argue it is a bit PTSD, but I have a course to teach tomorrow that I've put to the side for three weeks - you can make any of this up (and there's no way around it...it's the nature of the profession). I need to rally up the forces in the morning, and get on top of my game for today's class and all of those that follow next week. It is the finale, after all, and students need the dork that has been in front of them since September. In my evaluations, every year, I get one of two students complaining about the month of November and how the "instructor" spends more time at conferences than on his class. They are right, but I can't imagine that I'm the only one. Anyone in literacy has to be in the same boat.
Ah, but Glamis did eat the new coasters. Damn dog. I just bought them.
But I returned to Tunga, ready for a heart to heart, his transfer to LeMoyne next spring, and a willingness to absorb any advice I could give him. I cherished the moment, too, and said, "Two months from now, my house will be quiet." For the last three years, although he is a silent fellow, his presence has been enormous in my life.
We did our elephant shoes, a hug goodnight, and then I began to think about everything this semester has been. I could have stayed at LRA, but then the angst I'm feeling right now would have subsided until later in the week. Rather, I'm facing the chaos of the end of the semester head-on right now. None of this can be made up (so the flag that I have been waving for some time will continue to be waved).
Yet, I'm feeling good. I didn't think I'd survive this semester but somehow I did. And although my psoriasis are out of control with all the stress, I'm not carrying too many war wounds. And in one more day, I have a Friday. I can't believe it...but I have a Friday without a to-do list that extends 18 working days (shhhh. I need these days to catch up).
Tis the Season To Be Jolly! Happy December 1st!
Not much was done to appease my situation, and I simply endured.
I returned from LRA in Nashville at 11 pm last night and as soon as I entered my house my first thought was, "I bet I get really sick now."
Instead, I had Chitunga greeting me with his big smile and an acknowledgement, "You know the new coasters you bought for the coffee table? Um, Glamis chewed them. I told you she doesn't like when you leave the house."
I have to feel somewhat bad for the dog (and the kid) because I've been gone a lot this month. I forecasted it in August, but no matter how much I warn everyone, it doesn't sink in until the actions are put into place. It is literacy conference month and 8 presentations later, I can finally say, "I survived."
I'd argue it is a bit PTSD, but I have a course to teach tomorrow that I've put to the side for three weeks - you can make any of this up (and there's no way around it...it's the nature of the profession). I need to rally up the forces in the morning, and get on top of my game for today's class and all of those that follow next week. It is the finale, after all, and students need the dork that has been in front of them since September. In my evaluations, every year, I get one of two students complaining about the month of November and how the "instructor" spends more time at conferences than on his class. They are right, but I can't imagine that I'm the only one. Anyone in literacy has to be in the same boat.
Ah, but Glamis did eat the new coasters. Damn dog. I just bought them.
But I returned to Tunga, ready for a heart to heart, his transfer to LeMoyne next spring, and a willingness to absorb any advice I could give him. I cherished the moment, too, and said, "Two months from now, my house will be quiet." For the last three years, although he is a silent fellow, his presence has been enormous in my life.
We did our elephant shoes, a hug goodnight, and then I began to think about everything this semester has been. I could have stayed at LRA, but then the angst I'm feeling right now would have subsided until later in the week. Rather, I'm facing the chaos of the end of the semester head-on right now. None of this can be made up (so the flag that I have been waving for some time will continue to be waved).
Yet, I'm feeling good. I didn't think I'd survive this semester but somehow I did. And although my psoriasis are out of control with all the stress, I'm not carrying too many war wounds. And in one more day, I have a Friday. I can't believe it...but I have a Friday without a to-do list that extends 18 working days (shhhh. I need these days to catch up).
Tis the Season To Be Jolly! Happy December 1st!
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