After one of the most relaxing, slow-paced summers I can remember, this week is hitting me full force. Tomorrow is my first official day back to school, although I attended a meeting this afternoon and until I got sick, had been working in my room a few hours each day to get ready for the new school year. This week will be jam-packed with meetings and inservices with a couple of days to get our rooms ready and our lessons planned. A week from today, I will have finished the first day of classes with kids.
My oldest child has been doing the same in her classroom. And my youngest leaves this Friday for college again. She has been busy packing boxes, shopping, and spending time with friends she won’t see again for awhile.
Suddenly, everything feels rushed. I don’t like that feeling. People who work normal jobs may not appreciate what I’m saying. After all, they don’t have the summer to relax and stay home. Fair enough. Teaching is such an unusual profession in some ways. It’s not the continuum of a regular career. It’s more of an endurance race, begun each August with the finish line far, far off in the distance of June. Then we spend summers training and rejuvenating for the next race.
Tomorrow begins the next race for me.