I haven't blogged for a while, and most of that is a symptom of summer break. I often gear up to "get so much done" only to find myself pushing up against September 1 with only about one, or maybe two goals accomplished. Let me explain. Actually, let me first state a disclaimer: I am in no form complaining about having "summer off." And secondly, I don't really have it off, I only get paid 9 months salary by the way...like every other teacher.
So now, let me explain the mysterious lives of summer teachers. It's actually rather lovely but very lonely. Without a place to arrive, work to accomplish, and deadlines to structure your day to day, it can get blurred and lonesome. One day stretches seemingly on and on forever. However, at the end of the day you have no idea where the time went because you barely have anything to show for it. It's a bizarre feeling that almost borders sorrow in a strange way.
The best way I can describe it is to imagine your year as a week. September and October and like Monday. The are crappy and you feel as if it is hard to get your groove established. Tuesday would have to be November and just a dash of December, followed by hump day which would be Christmas, January and February. The holidays and the following slag of February are definitely Wednesday because while you're week is half over, you're only really half done. No one likes hump day, and no one likes February. And don't give me that drivel about Valentine's Day; its a made up holiday to make you buy horrible chocolate.
Shortly after, winter starts to wind down. This would represent Thursday because you see the end might be nigh, but you need a few drinks to tide you over. I consider March to be that time. You feel like repeating the mantra "just hold on, just hold on!".
So, finally Friday arrives, just like spring. Its pretty, getting warmer, and you can see the summer around the corner! You just coast through Friday, which, of course, would be after April break, including May and June. All my time as a teacher those last couple months have me feeling like I'm inside a Wilson Phillips song; I'm just holding on for one more day. June could almost be considered my Friday night, as it is the last month of school. Not a lot happens, and you're counting the minutes.
So, logically, Saturday and Sunday are July and August. August can be like Sunday because it leads to the onset of Sunday blues. After brunch is over, you've settled in for the night, your Netflix show is over you can just feel the impending doom. That is last week of August to the letter. Maybe labor day weekend can pull your outta the funk, but Monday still is coming. And it starts all again.
That was really rambling...ugh sorry. I need to get writing again. My brain is fried.
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