I don't know who needs this brief holiday more, the students or the teachers. We had a short faculty meeting today, sparsely attended, and just from the looks on our faces, I could tell that no one was sad that we were about to get a brief respite from the outward aspects of teaching. Knowing most of us in the profession, though, there will be more than one household in which the leftover Thanksgiving turkey will be cleared from the table so that a pile of ungraded essays can take center stage. Teaching doesn't stop when the day ends or when the vacation begins. If possible, we make use of each moment. Reading the newspaper? Don't forget to clip out articles that you'll be able to use in class. Surfing the internet? You're sure to find some good stuff to share with the students. Taking a trip? Hit the historic spots so you can bring back more knowledge to base your classroom discussions on. I can't even watch tv without jotting down notes of things I want to use as discussion starters or journal topics.
In short, teachers don't turn it off. If they do--if they can--then maybe they are in the wrong profession.
Mentally today, though, I must confess to being uninspiring. I'm exhausted, and I don't know why. Well, I do know. The drive to work and back really takes it out of me. I've whined about this before, and I assume I'll get more relaxed, but one of my great fears is that I'll drop my eagle-eyed vigilance on the highway and get into (or worse, cause) an accident. It might be worse that my taut nerves create such anxiety and tension. Today, I developed hiccups just after the drive home began. For half an hour, I'm watching traffic, trying to drive safely while not driving too slowly, and simultaneously holding my breath, trying to stop the hiccups. About the time the hiccups finally ended, I got into the mist. It's heavier and wetter than fog but not quite enough to call rain. Because the windshield wipers go too fast, even on the slowest intermittent speed, I was manually turning the wipers off and on every few seconds. And my radio was not being cooperative. Sometimes I head home and it's as if every song I've ever loved plays one after another. Today, it was every song I've ever hated--on all the usual stations. They even played a song on the sixties channel that I'd never heard before but which I instantly hated. It was by someone/some group named Fraternity. This enlightened songster was entreating his companion, "Don't bogart the joint," to country-style music.
Fortunately, after arriving home safely, I was greeted by the smell of a casserole that esteemed one had nearly ready to eat. We ate and then tried to doze before the television set, only to be shocked awake by a crash. He looked and could not solve the mystery. It took only one glance for me to solve it, mainly since I had set it up in an inadvertent Rube Goldberg moment. After I ate breakfast this morning, there was only one banana left of the bunch, so it couldn't hang on the little banana-ripener tree properly. I had it sort of wedged into it. After an entire day of hanging in there, the banana decided that the time had come to fall. It fell on a box of plastic forks and spoons. Better than an alarm clock. I should patent it.
My "hugger" came by during office hours today, bringing with him his identical twin. If the twin had not had slightly longer hair and a set of braces, I would have had trouble telling them apart, especially since the twin (who doesn't know me, after all), is also a hugger. But I don't mind being hugged by students when it's obvious that they hug just about everyone they know.
The forecast for snow has not changed. The weather folk are talking one to three inches. I am so glad I don't have to drive anywhere again this week. And unlike more energetic and ambitious people, I have zero plans to brave the crowds Friday to shop. Instead, if I shop at all, it will be sitting right here in front of my trusty Dell. Dr. S.
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