I have found myself in the very last week of summer before my new job begins. How in the world did this happen? How is it possible that nearly eight whole weeks have gone by and now I’ve woken up on the very last Monday of total freedom until June 2009? My colleagues in Brazil have been back at work for weeks already, my colleagues in public schools up here are gearing up for their start (one of whom went back just today) and now here I am in my final days and I find myself in complete and total denial.
It’s not that I don’t want to go back to work; I really do. I’m so excited to meet my new colleagues, so excited to meet my new students who I imagine come from all parts of the globe, so excited to finally be “doing” something. Oh, but this is a thing all teacher everywhere know: once it begins, there’s no stopping it for ten months straight. It’s like running a marathon where walking, slowing down, or dropping out is not allowed, and the kicker is, you have to finish at the same time as everyone else or you won’t be allowed to run anymore. All of you out there in year-round, 9-5 jobs have no idea about the intensity of the teaching year. Come next Monday, the gun will be fired and I won’t stop until June. Sure, there are some moments of respite thrown in, but those are few and far between.
I know, wah, wah, wah, I’ve just had two months off in a row and I spend my days lolling around in bed until I feel like getting up, and sometimes I don’t shower, and I can have a mid-day beer after spending the morning walking around Manhattan and picking out cat toys for Otis. Poor Baby Gina. I won’t justify my complaints any longer, but instead take my part in the collective groan of teachers everywhere.