Pity, Party of One?

Have you ever had a week where you just feel that it has been the longest, most horrible week, but then you look back and realize nothing really bad has happened to you? I have just had one of those weeks, and the crappy thing is that I really want to complain and write a very long blog about how horrible and bad, bad, bad that my whole life is, but, unfortunately I can't think of anything that has made it horrible and bad, bad bad. But I'm going to write a really long blog and complain about it, anyway.

I guess it all started Sunday when I came home from church, and it suddenly dawned on me that I have three callings. I love serving in my ward, don't get me wrong, but when I realized that I could never be late to church because I am the Relief Society chorister, I could never sneak out on Sacrament Meeting a little early because I am the Ward Choir Director, and my Tuesday's have to stay free and clear because I am the 11 year old scout leader, I got a little distraught. I am not a skip-out-on-church-type of person, but the idea that I'm not free to if I ever wanted to...well, I feel a little trapped. I have been assured that they would release me from one of these jobs (either the first one or the last one; the middle one is new), and I am sure I will be. Soon. Hopefully. Obviously, I need these callings, or someone needs me, so I go where I'm called. Still...

Monday was actually a really nice day because I went to a follow-up workshop. I went last summer to a week-long cohort called Secondary Literacy Institute, which has four follow-up sessions throughout the school year, and Monday was the first one. I have really enjoyed my cohort, and I have learned so much while I am there. The instructor is fun and entertaining, and he helps me make my classroom fun.

But it was an epiphany I had on Monday that is a little distressing: I really love professional development. Those of you who are not in the educational field, or even those of you who are not secondary ed might not realize the dire consequences of this discovery. In my school, professional development is synonymous with Satan's Plan: the worst thing that could ever happen to teachers--especially those veteran teachers who have been teaching 20+ years. So admitting that I enjoy professional development is like choosing Satan's plan, and now, I am one of his minions who must go out and persuade all those other "righteous" teachers to cross over.

And, another realization: I think I prefer being a student to being a teacher. I do love my job, but there's so much less stress and more enjoyment being the student. I do what you tell me to, and I don't have to make a whole lot of decisions, and the best part? I don't have to grade anything. You don't know how disheartening it is to realize that when you are a good teacher, and you have planned a stellar lesson with meaningful homework, and you've just done your job to the best of your ability, that you are then punishing yourself with loads of your own homework--90x what I have ever given my students. Sigh.

Tuesday I was so tired, all I wanted to do was sleep. But alas, I had dumb scouts from 4:30 to 5:30 (which usually lasts an extra 15 minutes), and I had signed up to take dinner to a very nice lady in our ward, but we needed to have it there by 6:00 because the person I had signed up with needed to be home by 6:15. And I didn't have anything I had volunteered to bring, because I had forgot about it in the midst of my Monday Epiphany, so I was reduced to salad kits and Peterson's pumpkin cookies. I came home exhausted. Thank goodness Kristin was so sweet to bring me dinner for no reason at all! Thanks so much!

Wednesday was the longest day of my life. I had a meeting at 7:15 about the up-coming split of our high school. When I realized one my closest friends here might have to go to the new high school, I was all sorts of wound up. Then I went to lunch, and everyone there was being these huge negative nay-sayers, which was starting to make me upset because, contrary to popular belief, my principal isn't ALL evil. And then it was Parent/Teacher Conferences, the most dreaded day of the whole school year. I hate telling parents their kids are failing. I hate it even more because then for the next few days I get stacks and stacks of late work, and everyone wants their grades updated right away. I finally got to leave the school at 8:00 only to find that Joe had pulled muscles in his back and wanted me to pick up Icy-Hot patches and cheese. So then I went home and fell asleep on the floor.

Thursday was so long, just because 5 hours of talking to parents following 8 hours of teaching exhausts you.

Today, I finally broke down. I have to plan for two classes on A days: English 11 Honors, which I have never taught before, and Creative Writing. Since I have never taught English 11, all my time is spent prepping for that one class, which leaves no time for my Creative Writing class, so things usually get thrown together. I feel like a very harried and bad teacher in my Creative Writing class. And to make things worse, I forgot that I didn't have any lunch, and my lunch hour is only 35 minutes long, and when you are competing with 2200 students all getting lunch at the same time, it's pretty much impossible to pick up anything and be back in time. So I went to my parent's house to eat something, and their fridge stinks. Literally. It smells like rotten fruit. So I couldn't eat anything there because smells gross me out. So I called Joe, and that poor guy, I started bawling on the phone about how hard it is to prep for three classes, and I couldn't do it, and it was too hard, and I'm too tired to do anything, and this week was too long, and how I couldn't even sleep in tomorrow because of women's conference, and that my parent's fridge stinks so I couldn't eat. I feel really bad about it now. It's not fair to call Joe with that type of stuff because he feels helpless, and then he worries the rest of the day. But I guess I needed to get it out.

The rest of the day was interesting. I yelled at my A3 class for no reason, and a I got mad at a couple of students turning in assignments that were due, but I hadn't called for yet, because I lose things if they aren't all turned in at the same time. By A4, I was better, but I was so drained that I didn't care what they did, and I don't think anyone learned anything from me today.

But it's the weekend, and I'm going to say thanks but no thanks to our Women's conference tomorrow morning so I can sleep in and still go to the General Relief Society meeting tomorrow night. I just wish the weekend consisted of two Saturdays and one Sunday, because my Sunday certainly isn't a day rest....

Life will be better Monday. I know it will. It's just been a very long week with Parent/Teacher Conference emotionally exhausting me. The week is over. I'm going home in 15 minutes, and I will finally get a chance to breathe. I'm okay.