I'm not working this summer. It still doesn't feel real to me. Since starting with the DOE in 1996, I have worked every summer, whether it was bookkeeping with a side of waitressing, curriculum writing, or summer school. This year, between the suckiness that was literacy coaching and a house that's still in need of TLC a year after moving in, I decided not to work. Fortunately, the always wonderful Mr. Malarkey agreed. In fact, he suggested it. He's teaching during both summer sessions at his college, but he assuaged my guilt by reminding me that his summer school is fewer hours, with air conditioned classrooms.
I knew there would be many perks to taking off this summer. Time to read, and garden and finish a plethora of abandoned house projects. Time to take a class to learn something I've wanted to do for a long time. Time to just be. Tonight I realized that there's one more benefit: several weeks without the Sunday Night Blues.
The Sunday Night Blues often kick in around 6 p.m., when it becomes apparent that I don't have the ability to stop time, and the arrival of Monday is imminent, and in twelve hours I will be climbing into my little Honda Civic to make the hourlong drive down to SoBro. The Sunday Night Blues involve stress about lessons not quite finished, papers still to be read, lunch to be made, and at least a dozen other things running through my head. Is there gas in the car? Because in the boondocks of my town there's only service station open when I leave, and it's really out of the way. Are my clothes ironed? Is the alarm set? Will I get a coverage because one of my co-workers needed just one more day? Will a dreaded Rebot be there to stalk my every move?
These are little things, but for some reason after a weekend of not thinking too much about work they all converge on me. And the ironic thing is, I did like my job, at least the teaching aspect of it. Those children never failed to make me smile. I can't imagine what it would have been like if I hated it.
So tonight I feel unusually mellow, not having to worry about any of the aforementioned things, not having to rely on Tylenol PM or Nyquil to lull me to sleep. I've had to remind myself a few times today not to stress about the things I have to do, because I can do them tomorrow.
02 July 2006
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5 comments:
I have quickly forgotten about the Sunday Night Blues. Most weekends I feel like something is missing, and it appears to be a mix of more leisure time for myself and better preparedness for my students the next day. How I can be so overworked yet unprepared is very depressing.
Enjoy your your summer without the Sunday Blues!
I worked summer school three years, then adjuncted at the local college for the next four.
Last year my adjunct gig got interrupted (not my fault) and I had my first summer off. My first of many.
That Sunday Night Blues thing, you are dead on!
Exercise, travel, eat better, relax, go out, spruce things up, whatever... now you've got 9 weeks that you control, and being in control is, hmm, nice.
Hi Miss Malarkey,
Just in case you missed it, we had a little contest over at School Me!, the LA Times' education blog last week, and your page was featured. Readers nominated their favorite teacher blogs, and we picked yours for our top 10 "Teablogs." Your mention is here:
http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/schoolme/2006/06/school_mes_cove_3.html
Cheers,
Janine
Congrats on the School Me! listing; it's how I found your blog! Good reads, and enjoy your stress-free Sunday evenings!
Fantastic post! I really appreciated your post on Mr. X as well. I've been in your situation, and it's frustrating to struggle with teachers that don't seem to want to teach students--for whatever reason. May I link to your blog from mine?
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