For an hour or two on Sunday afternoon, it becomes all about Monday.
Without looking at a clock, I make my lunch, fill my water bottle around 3:00. It's become part of my wiring. I wash the coffee maker and put the grinds in our permanent filter. Then I pull an outfit together. Although this paints a pictures of a fashionista, I remain an elementary school teacher who's wearing the capris and crew necks as long as she can. In Western Maine, in October, my days are numbered, I know.
Being a teacher, it's easy to hate Sundays. In my early years of teaching, my mind would turn on with a start on Sunday. The coming week consumed me and rendered me useless to the whimsy of the weekend. Instruction. Assessment. Classroom Management. This meeting. That paperwork. This student. ETC, ETC.
A Sunday will never replace a Saturday, but by taking the time, I've come to a peaceful place. Being mindful of my needs is a process. It feels good when that process gels.
Life Is Good, unless you're SJ and make a well intentioned suggestion on a tee shirt slogan that goes no where.
3 comments:
Ahh thanks Katie for a blog plug! I know what you mean about Sunday afternoon, I too have come to terms with the fact that it means you need to get ready for Monday. Very daring with the capris by the way!
It's funny because I just read this after finishing my Sunday prep too--my files are ready for Monday and most importantly a perusal of my weekly calendar tells me that this is only a two day in court week--capris and turtlenecks for me, too, 3 days this week.
Do you think doctors spend their Sundays thinking about the patients they'll be seeing on Monday, or the rest of the week for that matter? I think we're the only professionals that spend more time working outside of our classrooms than in them. BTW, I'll be in my capris for most of the year, as my classroom is unbearably hot in the winter. I basically stick to summer clothes all year (Short-sleeved shirts and capris) I think my classroom is directly above the boiler or something. Most mornings, when I open my door, it feels like opening the door to a blast furnace. I purchased a thermometer my first year here specifically to see how hot my room actually gets. It's not unusual for it to read 110 when I first arrive at school. And, no, I'm NOT kidding. I've started leaving my windows cracked a bit when I leave at the end of the day so I don't pass out when I get there in the morning!!
Post a Comment