I’m spending all of these fall days with my head spinning.
I’m using most of my brainpower (and time) to gather paperwork in order to save my retirement from the greedy hands of Someone Who Shall Not be Named. It’s not enough that he’ll have the house, his camp and a share of his mother’s home, but now he wants to ensure that I work at Wal-Mart after I retire. (Which will probably be NEVER if things don’t go my way. I’ll be the teacher in the corner DEAD in the rocking chair. )
“Ms. Smythe looks kind of funny; she hasn’t spoken to us for a few weeks and is starting to smell…”
I’m using the rest of my brainpower (and there isn’t much left after THAT, believe me) to organize my temporary home and my permanent classroom. It’s INCREDIBLE how much stuff a teacher keeps just in case she needs it. And truthfully, we usually do need the one thing we threw away the week before and so we’re conditioned to keep, keep, keep. (I mean recycle.) So I’m spending many hours deciding what precious items from the previous teachers I NEED and what items I don’t. I have to create space inside many filled cabinets for my OWN crap that someone ELSE will try to throw away after they find me dead in the rocking chair. (Which at this rate will be sooner than I think.)
I fill the few remaining moments with trips to Golden Boy’s high school football games. Watching him revel in the magical moments of friday night high school football fills my heart with incredible joy. For those few hours each weekend I am not a woman fighting a battle. I’m the mom of the 6’1” nose guard trying to get a piece of the quarterback.
Through all of this turmoil, I’ve come to realize that my juggling skills are declining. I’m sure it has nothing to do with age, bad knees or exhaustion. It’s probably because I’ve lost my balls.
Now, if someone can tell me which box I packed them in, I can get this show BACK on the road.