Already?

I spent an hour or so today working on my retirement plan. Yes, you read that right, retirement. I talked to a guy on the phone about diversified portfolios, and the amount of risk I'd like to take in mine, and other things which should really only be talked about in New York high rises and commercials featuring octogenarians. In the course of this misplaced conversation, I came upon a couple of slightly frightening thoughts. One, I am at the age at which I have to start thinking about the end of my life. Two, I have another 40 years or so until I can stop working, and if that's the case, I really truly hope that my job starts getting better. Three, I've done the Rubik's Cube so many times that I hardly have to be paying attention anymore. Okay, maybe that last one is just bragging. But in any case, it was strange to think that I should even be thinking about retirement. While I do live in the old people capital of the world (Exaggerating? Maybe.), I don't feel as though I should be thinking of joining their ranks any time soon.

Anyway, all of this to say, I thought it was weird. I'm currently on spring break now, which means a lot of sitting around thinking of what I should be doing and finding reasons to put it off until tomorrow.

Post Quota for March: MET! Horray for staying on schedule!

A Jonas Day

Perhaps it is just one of life's cruelties that at the moment my confidence begins to grow something enters the equation to overshadow the faintest glimmer of self-assurance. For the last few days, I've been riding a wave of naive positivity after my post observation conference in which the Boss-lady told me that both she and the Grand Poobah are happy with my performance thus far. Today that wave broke and I again find myself floundering in a sea of confusion, frustration, and stress. I basically messed up on the paperwork, and the messing up thereof requires a large amount of time consuming work to fix. Right now, time is at a premium since I have four classes worth of journals to grade before Friday when grades are due, a set to build and a play to rehearse.

I'm so tired of messing up. It seems that every few weeks I have another small crisis and I find myself in the Captain's Chair in the band room (don't ask me why it's called the Captain's Chair, I have no idea) asking the Seasoned Veteran how to dig myself out of this pile of whatsit I have landed myself in again. I tend to beat myself up over mistakes, and every time I make one of these big mistakes, I end up spending at least a few days completely drained from the mental beating I've given myself. Although I am reminded quite regularly that this is my first year, and I can't be expected to know how to do everything, I have this irrational expectation that I'll know it anyway. My crazy chem teacher in high school used to say I have a neurosis; I'm beginning to think he was right.

I am so exhausted in so many ways. Spring break is a few days away, but it too will be filled with work. Here's to hoping that it gets easier.

News and Notes

'News and Notes,' wasn't that the title a few posts ago? Why, yes, observant reader, it was. In my busyness and abject laziness, I've temporarily given up on writing creative titles for the seemingly endless stream of posts whining about my job and have place in their stead a consistent title. This will no doubt help you in knowing what to skip when surfing through your Google Reader feed in the mornings (or whenever it is that you have the luxury of sitting down and reading the assorted offerings of the world wide web).

Anyway, I have my first official observation tomorrow with my supervising AP. I'm understandably anxious about it. The butterflies currently setting up camp in my stomach are akin to those which took their vacations from the wide open spaces to my gastrointestinal tract on the evenings before a presentation or performance in high school. Pardon me while I go freak out for a moment. All this anxiety stems from my lack of experience (hey, that sounds familiar) with this particular situation. Although I've been teaching for 4 1/2 months, I have yet to be evaluated objectively; I don't generally count the "you suck"s and the "this class is boring"s as objective or accurate feedback.

On the upside, the Grand Poobah himself came into 6th period today, and I thanked my lucky stars that we were for once doing something in the classroom and I actually looked like I was teaching my students something. That's not to say that I don't usually teach my students things, but theatre being what it is, much of our time is spent doing things which frankly don't look very studious or teacherly, like rehearsing, or playing improv games. Anyway, I had the projector on and was writing on the board and everything. It was pretty impressive. I'm sure some of my students were bored out of their minds the moment I picked up the dry erase marker, but I had a good time today, and I think at least a few of them understood what I was trying teach them.

So, tomorrow is a big day. Big day.

Oh, we also finally finished blocking "Arsenic and Old Lace," so we move into run throughs. Let the train wreck begin.

Springtime

It's beginning to feel very Spring-ish in this part of the country. As I locked up my classroom this evening the cool breeze carried the smell of growing things across my face. Grass, freshly churned dirt. I thought of the family of raccoons living under the portables behind the PAC and I wondered if they love this weather as much as I do. It seems odd that I haven't named them yet. I've been too busy to think about that kind of thing, I guess. Anyway, it's feeling Spring-ish. I'm sure that before too long, the Florida weather will turn again, and the heat will beat down on that freshly churned dirt.

This week has been gorgeous, in spite of what promises to follow. Weeks like this make me wish I lived my life in the sunshine, instead of in the deep shadow and bright lights of a theatre, or under the drab fluorescent tubes of my classroom. I can't help but think that I would be happier if I spent more time outdoors.

Today was a day for peaceful airy music played by a string quartet, for long hair left free to dance in the breeze, for jeans, a t-shirt, and a sun-kissed glow. I drove home with the window rolled down (except on the highway because that's not as aerodynamic and therefore less fuel efficient) thinking of the Tallahassee spring and the thick layer of pollen which turned my white car green for a several months in the year, and feeling the wind whip across my shoulders after going up the sleeve covering the arm draped out the window. Yes, I love Spring. It has so many possibilities. Memories, if they felt like anything physical, would feel like a cool breeze caressing my face on a Spring afternoon.

Daylight Savings

Today daylight savings became a mosquito buzzing through my daily routine. Ages ago I looked forward to the beginning of daylight savings with childish excitement. Daylight savings meant the fireflies were coming back soon. It meant my brothers and I could play outside longer, even after dinner, and it would soon be warm enough to wear shorts and make mud pies under the swing in the spring rain and float paper boats in the puddles under the hemlock. We would come in after a long day of playing Davey Crockett in the yard, our faces sweaty and sticky, black necklaces of dirt and sweat around our necks, our sleeves zebra striped from being dragged across our faces.

Daylight savings meant summer. Kick-the-can at night, baseball out by the chicken house (we were moved to the back after putting a hole through the parlor window), long afternoons reading, soccer, skipping rocks in the pond, riding our bikes out to the road to get the mail, no school. Summer was great. I loved summer when I was little. Somehow there was always something to do. That was summer in Virginia.

Now daylight savings means I have to turn a light on in the morning to find my way to the bathroom, and I drive home as the sun sets in my rear view mirror.

News and Notes

I've been having one of those weeks in which I question whether or not I'm supposed to be doing this job. I won't go into details, but frankly, it has sucked. Most of my anxiety stems from my lack of professionalism and my age. I forget sometimes that I am in charge and not a teenager, and therefore can't treat my students as peers. This may sound bizarre, but it is a daily struggle to turn on the filter and not say what I'm thinking. On top of all of that, I'm really behind in grading things (there is literally a stack more than an inch and a half high of things to read, the majority of which were completed with a half-hearted effort), and I'm more busy than ever with show things.

I also found out today that I have to schedule an observation for sometime before spring break, which is just what I don't need at this moment when I feel most inadequate. Perhaps what I'm going through results from an overload of criticism (how else should I interpret, "Miss, this is boring" and "when are we actually going to do anything in this class"?) and complete lack of affirmation. My students want something from me, but I don't know what it is, and I doubt I would be able to deliver even if I did.

Anyway, now for something different. I was playing with the cat earlier and realized that my two favorite nicknames for him are rhyming couplets: fat cat and pretty kitty. Maybe that last one isn't quite right, but it sounds the same, so I go with it. That small fact makes me pretty happy. It's almost like God's little gift to people who like rhyming.