It's About Time

It’s conference day. I have a love/hate relationship with conference days. Typically, they provide a solid chunk of time to be productive in my classroom for more than 10 minutes at a time, which otherwise only happens if I stay late. Today, I’ve got conferences scheduled sporadically, which means my work time keeps getting interrupted. These inevitable interruptions are deterring me from actually working, so I’m looking for brilliant ideas on Pintrest. 

The last few weeks have been hard. I’m exhausted, and either the sun keeps trying to come out, which is making the kids crazy, or the snow is falling, which makes the kids cranky, and apparently my room has an uncanny ability to “make the kids sleepy” in the afternoon regardless of what activity we are doing. I leave work exhausted, often to fall into my couch and only awaken when Sam steals all of my blankets, which is the only way to rouse me from the couch and get me to my bed. I haven’t been cooking, reading, or doing anything. I’ve been purposefully avoiding making plans because I’d rather be a bump on a log. My brain feels better when I’m a bump on a log. 

I’ve doubted my ability to make it to spring break for the last three weeks. I kept trying to find a day so I could take off and catch a break, but it couldn’t happen. I was proctoring the HSPE, starting new units, attending meetings, and now I’m holding conferences. It’s so hard to find a day to take off as a teacher. And when I do take a day off, I’m at my desk and the copy machine until six o’clock the night before I’m gone. 

Clearly, I’m READY for a week off. My brain needs a break, and I need to read mindless novels. I mean really mindless. I’m thinking embarrassingly cheesy romances and young adult books are on next week’s agenda. I’ll intertwine reading bad books, playing with my new sewing machine, and hanging out with those I love for the next week. I’ll cook. I’ll laze. I’ll get my oil changed and my tires rotated. I’ll work SOME, but not all. And because I’m halfway through units and actually know what I’m doing after break, I think I’ll be able to escape the inevitable guilt that comes with dodging teacher stuff for too long. 

I’m tired, I’m cranky, and my classroom looks like a three year old terrorized my papers that were, once upon a time, carefully organized. It’s a good thing they give us a spring break. If they didn’t, there’d be some kids flying out my very tempting second story window, which opens plenty wide enough.