I have no excuse for being tired, but I am. I worry I have been hiding from or avoiding you in some way, but I don’t know. It could be hormones, or just the big switch from summer back into school.
I know I should be explaining about the joy in my classroom, life. You’ve given me another 120 sixth graders that are so incredible I can hardly stand it. But just typing that one sentence exhausted me. I should be able to go on and on about them, I’m a second year, this is easy now, but I can’t manage to talk about it.
Lately I’ve been a little angrier than usual, because you’ve created this situation where I am strong and capable and with nothing to complain about but still I dwell and wish my mother was here. Still I snap and repeatedly choose to read books instead of talk to the people you’ve set in front of me. Still I quietly think of the ways I might start to explain this, or think of the people I might try to explain it to, but never get past the quiet part.
I’m stuck, life! And usually this is when the long drives help, when the green and gold outside helps, when the big sky and quiet help. But loooord is it grating me. Today’s drive just made me want to sleep at the wheel, and now this coffee shop, the one that’s 1.5 hours away, is closing 30 minutes after I arrive. Summer hours. Good thing I need to go to WalMart.
Okay okay, pity party this isn’t. More like a question, like hey, life, what is going on? Can I get some directions? If you, life, were turned into a metaphor of a road, who is my gas station attendant who will tell me where I need to go to get back on track? Who is that person? I feel like I should be growing out of this directionless mess. Second year! I’m supposed to be confident! Know what I’m doing! But it kind of feels like a wall. A wall that exhausts me just looking at it… and I haven’t even done any work to get over or through it yet.
A note from life:
LADY, GET WITH THE PROGRAM.