A part of me is feeling a little like I’ve wasted my midterm. It’s Friday now, so technically this is the last day of my “holiday”. It’s gone, and what do I have to show for it? Seriously, the house seems even messier than it did at the start of the week, I still have one batch of correcting that I haven’t even looked at, I have tension building in me over a committee project that I don’t know how to start and I’m still really tired.
I didn’t even spend the week catching up on extra hours of sleep like I’ve done on previous breaks. We’ve both (me and G.) spent the week getting up at 6am – and I know that’s not exactly crazy early, but it means being asleep by 11 in order to get a bare minimum of 7 hours of sleep (holed like emmental cheese by the oft-waking four year olds), and that hasn’t always been the case.
So my belly feels a little sicky – and I think it’s at least partially due to being really really tired. And now all that’s left is one weekend and then it’s back into the fray.
I’m feeling really scared about going back to work next week. No, not scared, anxious. That’s weird, where’s that coming from? I just feel a bit unprepared and scattered. Well, I suppose all that it will require is a few hours of list making and refocusing. I guess I just want more time without carrying the responsibility for others’ futures on my back, when they’re not even bothered carrying their own.
Sigh. Deep breath. All of that.
Fuck ’em? No, not really that, but also, it’s. not. my. job. to. do. their. worrying. for. them. And it doesn’t even help to do that anyway. Maybe it even un-helps. I’ve a lot of “kids these days” moments recently – but it feels like kids these days are so used to having everyone organise stuff for them and tell them what to worry about and how to prepare for it in advance and then they can’t bloody well cope with the unexpected. No, let’s have them face failure and low marks now in my classes before June, and no, I’m not going to let that give me an ulcer. Sorry if you’re not as good as you thought you were. Sorry. It’s hard. Sorry, not sorry. Maybe do a bit more work outside class. Maybe push through your discomfort in a test and try to put down some kind of information. Oh, I didn’t teach you how to do that? I told you to practice. I told you where to practice. I told you it would be unexpected. And I’m telling you over and over – you cannot be asked something you haven’t studied, so figure it out.
Or, if you can’t? Drop levels.
Yup. Because it’s hard.
It’s sort of sucks because it’s not hard for me, and it’s never been hard for me – that sort of thing. So it’s taken me some years to realise that I need to give more direction around the figuring it out and I’ve been carrying some guilt around that, but look, teachers get better as they get more experience, y’know. I’m doing my best, but being my best doesn’t mean I have to acid my insides away with guilt and worry. Certainly not for students who aren’t holding up their end of the bargain.
Anyway, I feel a bit better for having admitted to feeling worried about going back. It’s also been a good reminder to myself to take some time for that work over the weekend.
Some exciting news came through about G.’s work this week and it means that my brain has even shifted his work up to a higher priority than mine, but hey, there’s two of us here and we’re both important. Organisation of our time and strong communication is going to be even more key if we’re not both to explode with frustration and stress as we push for the time that we both need.
Capitalist market rules kind of hold sway around “who gets time” in our house. We both try to be “fair”, but more than that, I think we both rely on each other to be strong enough to push back if the other seems to be taking more than their share – and to not take that personally. That way we don’t have to carry the extra burden of worrying about if the other is “getting enough”. We just have to trust each other to raise the issue if it comes up.
And now the sky is bright, and it’s time for me to carry some of the house-tidy burden, because I know for sure I won’t have time for it next week.