Spring Break is Nothing More Than a Memory
Tomorrow the alarm clock will go off at 5:30 a.m. I will hit the snooze button a couple of times, dreading the inevitable-- the first day back from Spring Break. Don't get me wrong. I love teaching. It's not going to work that I would like to avoid. It is the routine that I have to begin again.
Each tap of the snooze button will conincide with an internal conversation with myself.
5:30 - "It's Monday. Get up."
5:39 - "Who picked this radio station?"
5:48 - "If you don't get up now, you will have to go to work without washing your hair."
5:57 - "It's now or never. Don't forget you still have to pull #1 out of bed, too."
That last one is usually the one that will force me out of bed. Nothing is worse than trying to coax my 11 year old daughter out of bed. Forget it if she didn't bother to lay out her clothes the night before. We will definitely be late to school.
Once she is vertical, I will have to run back to my bathroom, wash, apply makeup, figure out what to do with my hair (since I chose the path of not washing it,) figure out what outfit needs the least ironing, run back to #1's room to make sure she didn't crawl back in bed, scurry back to my room to find the left shoe, find my school bag, remember a can of soup for lunch, ensure that #1 has enough lunch money (she doesn't,) dig through the change on the dresser for quarters so #1 can eat, and last but not least search for my cell phone, car keys and badge.
By this time it will be 6:45 which leaves me 15 minutes to make it down the country road (watch out for deer), through the military checkpoint (please don't ask to inspect my car), crawl through the school zone (don't have time for a ticket) and run to the back door (I hope my badge will open the door) just in time to open my classroom.
Whew! You would think, knowing what I know the day before that I would prepare for this now.
Nah, that would take away from what's left of my spring break.
So don't get in front of me tomorrow. I will be the one in the white LeSabre dodging the deer.
Each tap of the snooze button will conincide with an internal conversation with myself.
5:30 - "It's Monday. Get up."
5:39 - "Who picked this radio station?"
5:48 - "If you don't get up now, you will have to go to work without washing your hair."
5:57 - "It's now or never. Don't forget you still have to pull #1 out of bed, too."
That last one is usually the one that will force me out of bed. Nothing is worse than trying to coax my 11 year old daughter out of bed. Forget it if she didn't bother to lay out her clothes the night before. We will definitely be late to school.
Once she is vertical, I will have to run back to my bathroom, wash, apply makeup, figure out what to do with my hair (since I chose the path of not washing it,) figure out what outfit needs the least ironing, run back to #1's room to make sure she didn't crawl back in bed, scurry back to my room to find the left shoe, find my school bag, remember a can of soup for lunch, ensure that #1 has enough lunch money (she doesn't,) dig through the change on the dresser for quarters so #1 can eat, and last but not least search for my cell phone, car keys and badge.
By this time it will be 6:45 which leaves me 15 minutes to make it down the country road (watch out for deer), through the military checkpoint (please don't ask to inspect my car), crawl through the school zone (don't have time for a ticket) and run to the back door (I hope my badge will open the door) just in time to open my classroom.
Whew! You would think, knowing what I know the day before that I would prepare for this now.
Nah, that would take away from what's left of my spring break.
So don't get in front of me tomorrow. I will be the one in the white LeSabre dodging the deer.
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