Ebjournal Revisited.

13 days

(Editor’s Note: This posting appeared yesterday on Tony’s alternate, teacher blog. From time to time, he will post to both sites.)

Oh, if only this were the Cuban missile crisis movie by the same name. Nyet, comrades, this is the countdown until the “Most Wonderful Day of the Year” –IF you’re a stay-at-home parent, tired of their children’s’ insatiable appetite for all things Cartoon Network.

13 days.

Today, one of my non-teacher friends, who supports teachers a lot, came to my classroom for the first time. He made the usual grunting noises about the room, telling me that it looked good. (Today, I finally finished the project the filing fairy started; transferring and organizing all my files into drawers by subject area. I almost didn’t make it, gentle readers.) I, of course, am simultaneously getting and ulcer and having a heart attack because there are only 13 days left, and where he sees a clean countertop, I see missing centers and organization. By nature, I am not an organized person (Piles, not files!) but I have come to appreciate the need for an orderly classroom. Not only does it facilitate management, it also keeps me from tripping. So, I’m working my butt off to get things done. My friend was amazed to see that there were so many teachers working in their classrooms today. He thought I was the only one who was neurotic. The truth is, unbeknownst to the general public, is that teachers start getting nervous about their classrooms right about at the end of July. Nervous probably isn’t the correct word. Neurotic like a meth addict waiting for his or her next fix is probably more accurate for any teacher worth his or her salt. You would think, as I’m going into my sixth year of teaching, I would feel better about the new year. I think it’s an inverse ratio– the more you’ve taught, the less ready you feel for the beginning of the year, and therfore start thinking next year’s classroom, say, in May.

Meanwhile, I have to take time out to eat. Friends, I like to eat. You can tell this by looking at me. However, I was loathe to leave the classroom. I promised myself that I would be back first thing in the morning.

13 days is bad.

12 days is worse.

RSS Trackback URL 12. August 2005 (14:54)
Filed under: General, School Daze