Monday found me teaching all five classes, including a sequence of three back-to-back classes of tired, overwhelmed students. I drove home from school in an icy slush The roads themselves weren't icy, thank goodness. But still.
Tuesday was yet another go round of all four of my classes. Three of them were starting the exact same brand new lesson. I am the sort of teacher who does not welcome repetition and keeping selective incorporation fresh three times in one day would tax the most patient of Supreme Court Justices (with the exception of Antonin Scalia, who opposes the nationalization of the Bill of Rights anyway…). Gah.
The real sign of trouble between this week and me was Wednesday morning, when I awakened early for a 7:30 am meeting, came downstairs to begin the caffeination process, and pressed the refresh button at the National Weather Service website twice, convinced that it couldn't possibly only be Wednesday.
That night's storm brought enough anxiety that I spent most of the night lying awake in my bed, awaiting the darkness that would signal that our electricity was out. This lights stayed on (thank you, Universe) and I slipped into an anxious sleep around 4 am only to enjoy dreams of driving a car suddenly without the ability to brake. Not restful.
Today found me with nary a free period to prep lessons, grade papers, and otherwise be a teacher. The afternoon left me with the sort of moral quandary I do not enjoy. Bite me, Thursday.
I'm not optimistic about Friday so much as I resigned to it. That it will signal the arrival of a weekend is cause for ever-so-slight optimism. Don't fuck this up, Friday.