Dear Self: A Moment of Honesty

Dear Self,

Once upon a time in my current situation, I spent the day working and studying. I slept in until 8:00 because I was tired from getting up so early on the day before in order to finish a paper before 8:00. I planned; I ate; I sang to myself; and then I left bravely for the day.

By 11:00, I was teaching a room full of silent seniors, who surprisingly were not as excited about Shakespeare's Othello as I was. I asked them questions. I read with them. And I tried to think of anything that would get their interest. On the inside, I was begging the minutes to pass more quickly so that my misery could end. Finally, they passed. And I was able to sit back and readjust for five minutes before my next class came in; I prayed in my heart that somehow I could shake off my fears of repeat and approach the lesson with a few adaptations. My prayers were answered and the lesson went well.

I went grocery shopping, which I had needed to do for three weeks. I came home and worked on reflection assignments. I went to work only to find that I had overlooked some details in helping mentor one of my athletes. It is frustrating to know that I dropped the ball, especially, when as a perfectionist, I am good at blaming myself.

Although there were some fun finds during the day: like a Shakespeare supplementary reading guide and a National Geographic issue to add to my classroom library, I just ended my day with a cranky attitude that no one could please or satisfy. I came here, here to my writing in order to talk myself out of pointless and unjustified angst.

As I just wrote, I realized that this built up feeling at the end of the day isn't uncommon for me these days. In fact, one time I was feeling emotional because of another long day, and my roommate finally and kindly told me what I needed. I said, "what do you think? Don't you have an opinion?" She said, "I think you need to go to bed." When tonight I saw a repeat of said inner crankiness, I knew that she was right that night and her wisdom will now be my answer to my feelings when living on little rest: sleep it off. Some people may laugh when Scarlet O'Hara says that "[she] can't think about it today. [She'll] think about it tomorrow," but I say "AMEN sister!" Sometimes, the world of dreams is the best medicine for moodiness.

And I never fancied myself one of those females, but I'm starting to believe and be honest: women are weird sometimes. And I am woman. What a realization.

Ado, ado.
Goodnight.

P.S. I feel much better. This shouldn't be a post-script, but writing about my answered prayer immediately made the pent-up mood dissipate. Gratitude changed my attitude and threshold. I was immediately calmed when I wrote that paragraph; The Holy Ghost calmed my inner storm.

A New Addiction--Well, a Recognized Addiction

I am addicted to buying books. My new favorite hunting spot is at DI. They have cheap books and since I am building up my classroom library, I am creating a hefty collection that might be a beast to pack as I head off to wherever I am headed next. I wonder where phase five of my life will be.

Paper break!

"Is there someone else?" Frank
"No, but there's the dream of someone else." Kathleen Kelly

You've Got Mail

Teaching People How to Study

How am I supposed to teach other people how to plan and study well if I can't get all my stuff done??

Raw Warning

Raw Warning

Writing and Reading
Not a dangerous scene.
In spite of all our travels,
The dangers are unseen.

Perhaps we think of conflicts,
Of wars about the good.
Of social movements plenty,
Of characters who could.

And then we sit in classes,
We talk and fill the boards.
We turn in all our papers--
Insecurity withstood.

Yet my hands have their scarring.
Like bed sores a la carte
From the computer where they rest
Rubbing raw, from thinking smart.

So English isn't shooting,
But safe I don't believe,
Look at my hands and elbows.
They testify; they bleed.

Hope

The Due Date

I feel like I'm about to have a baby. Don't worry, I don't mean that I'm literally knocking on the hospital's door with contractions jolting my stomach. I mean that as I approach my student teaching, I can see the due date, and there's no going back. I decided nine months ago plus some years that this was my goal so here I am.

As you can tell by my last post, I often feel destined to be a teacher. Like I said, I feel so empowered in my classes and learning. But today, two things happened that shook my confidence. One, I found out that I will be going to a high school, which intimidates me. I have been preping my nerves for middle school. But high school seems more intimidating. Closer in age. So: I'll readjust. But it just becomes more real knowing where I will be.

After a long day of homework, my first day of work, and my responsibilities, I went to the BYU baseball field to watch Remember the Titans, a favorite of mine--ask me to quote it. Kristina pointed out that BYU was using the film to pump the students up before the season starts this Saturday. I hadn't thought of that. But watching the movie, made me picture myself in front of students. In front of them teaching, in charge of their education. What if I'm bad at it? I realize that I am afraid of failing them and failing myself. This is the intimidation.

But like I said, the due date is coming. I'm already here. Picking a major is the same as getting pregnant. It's too late at this point.