Random Monday Mornings

I have a difficult time with Mondays. I think most people do, so I'm not out of the ordinary--in this case, anyway. And don't worry. This isn't another depressing rant about how sad I am. Thanks to asking God if it was okay if I took a break from my calling, allowing Joe to do the dishes and help fold laundry, taking walks in the sunshine, telling my students no, and some happy pills from my doctor to deal with the post-postpartum that I didn't know about (It turns out, depression isn't about being sad--it's about losing control. Who knew?), I am feeling much better about life in general, and even my job. No, this isn't about how sad I am. This is about why Mondays are so hard for me.

I simply don't want to do anything for anyone else. Why is that? I don't know. I can't figure it out, either. Basically, this what my Mondays are like: The alarm goes off around 5:45. I don't hear it, and Joe pushes snooze about four or five times so it's 6:15 by the time he wakes me up. Now, if you know me, you will know that when I wake up, I don't jump out of bed and get started. I never have, and after six years of teaching I realize that I never will. So I try for the next fifteen minutes to keep my eyes open, trying to remember if I need to wash my hair today or not. If I do, I reluctantly get up and walk (with my eyes closed) to the shower. If not, then I joyfully turn on my curlers and go back to bed for five minutes. At this point, Joe, who is a much better morning person than I am, is up, dressed, woke up Alice, fed her, and is making lunches. He is such a wonderful wife!

Finally, I either get out of the shower or bed, depending on the status of my hair. By now it's about 6:35. I officially have 25 minutes to get ready for the day. This is why, in the last two years, I have stopped wearing makeup. No, it's not a feminist stand, nor is it a decision based on the self-confidence of good skin. No. It's just laziness. Sometimes, if I particularly don't care, I go in the front room to watch Mickey Mouse Clubhouse with Alice for a few minutes. It's Monday mornings that Alice decides that, after a weekend of being a Daddy's Girl, that she in fact, wants her Mommy. But I can't hold her because I have to get ready for work. This is the only time during the whole day when I get a twinge of that old guilt. But, once again, thanks to the happy-pills, I move on and go to blow dry my hair and hope the shirt I want to wear is clean and not too wrinkled. Then, around 7:05, when I should be jumping in my car to go to work to make it by the 7:15 contract time, I take Alice to the babysitter, stand around and chat for about 5-10 minutes, then walk out with Joe, talk to him about another 5 minutes, go back up the stairs to grab whatever I forgot the first time, then I get in the car.

This is around 7:15. I am officially late. I drive about 60 miles an hour, because Mondays feel like that kind of driving, so I get to work in 20 minutes instead of 15. At this point, it's 7:35, and I am the last English teacher to arrive that day. I can count all their cars. But I don't really care. So I sit around my classroom for about 10 minutes, trying to look busy in case a student comes in for help with something (which they never do. I think I scare my students.) Then, when the bell rings, I say a silent prayer, thanking the powers that be that the girls outside my door (sophomores with bright green eye-shadow who swear and talk about all the bi@&!es they're gonna take out. There's a new b#%ch who's gonna be taken out every week. It's amazing there's any girls left in the school) have to go to class.

Then, I sit at my desk, start up my computer, and then stare at it for about five minutes and say another silent prayer thanking Heavenly Father for first hour preps. Then, to put off the grading that needs to happen, or any copying I need to do, I look at blogs for about 35 minutes. It would be longer if people updated their blogs more (hint, hint). Then, I decide I should update my blog, but then I realize I don't have any pictures of Alice at work, so I decide I could write about me. So I start writing a post that no one will really care to read, and takes me about 20 minutes to compose. Then, I look at the clock, see it's 8:35, and realize that the bell will ring in 20 minutes, because once again, it's MONDAY, meaning there's about 15 minutes less in each class, and I have nothing done for my students.

But I don't care. Partly because it's Monday, but mostly because I realize that it's State Core Testing all this week, and I don't have to do anything particularly exhausting, nor do I have to make copies. Then, I decide, instead of using my time wisely, that I'm going to try to change the music on my blog.

That's my typical Monday. By Tuesday I'm ready to work. Sigh. Just 6 more hours until I can go home...