Every school year, sometime around week five, I become convinced I have developed a terminal illness. My body aches at the end of the day, supper seems like an enormous undertaking, and I crawl into bed at 9 pm, already half-asleep. I debate how to tell my family that my time is up. Then I call my sister, a fellow teacher whose year starts a bit earlier, and she reminds me that it’s week five, and my condition is chronic but not terminal. Soon after that, I gain my school legs, and I’m fine.
This morning, I got up at 5:30 am, crawled into the shower, and was pleased to discover that overnight my vision had magically improved so that I could see clearly. Two seconds later, my glasses were dripping wet. I had gotten into the shower with them on.
It’s week five, y’all.
No comments:
Post a Comment