(no subject)
so, here's some things about how i'm managing.
these days i'm not thinking about the future. i'm merely asking myself, what would you like to do now? and then i do those things. i daydream about twinkly christmas lights, and i play a lot of games on my droid.
i'm not waxing poetic about my job. i'm going there, doing my thing, just being there. not getting along wonderfully with the children, probably because i have a student teacher this semester, and so i'm making space for this other adult in the room. it's hard to float around the classroom, admiring the treasure troves of literacy around me, when the day is stretched thin and angry. so, whatever, i'll be the jerk for now, let my student teacher enjoy her last few weeks, and get absorbed in my own literate life. it's the second best thing i can do for now. in the meantime, i'm building our classroom library and reading. i'm collecting lots of resources and marching us through curriculum. i'm gathering data. i'm making instructional decisions and planning with other teachers, handling their problems and mediating conversations.
when i get home, i sit in the car for awhile, listening to the good rush-hour music on the radio. i play words with friends and sudoku. sometimes i stay there for twenty or thirty minutes before i turn off the car and walk upstairs to my apartment, where i continue my screen time--television, android boggle, pinterest.
slowly i'm sinking back into a reading life, one that fizzled in september. i've read nine books since august, which is slow for me. i'm trying to eat better, sleep better, drink more water. one day, i just know it, i'll get on my elliptical for fifteen minutes.
what would you like to do now? i ask myself this question every hour after work. sometimes i plan to lay in bed for awhile, the cat at my feet, while i watch television. it's what i can manage. because in between, there are these things: weddings, meetings, babies, friends who are grieving, friends who are celebrating, birthdays, retreats, doctor appointments, car maintenance. i can barely remember to pay the bills, because everyone is cramming in around me with their big, complicated lives, and i'm just trying to get my teeth cleaned.
and then, suddenly, i'm 31. four weeks from tomorrow.
when my mind starts to race, i have to shut off. my mind must be blank, because even the good thoughts start to wilt and decay around the edges. it's like my own brain is poison sometimes. when i think about the parts unplanned, my brain starts to plug in numbers, like it can fix the empty spots. i know it's a malfunction, but it's a malfunction in my very being--the part that thinks and realizes and knows. and so i can't trust what i know and feel. i can just breathe, just be.
in the darkest times, i am simply alone. in the brighter times, i recognize that i'm only seeing the smidgen of truth--that i'm only alone where it counts.