Friday, June 5, 2009

The Strange Beast of Summer

As the title mentions, I find summer a strange beast.

I have so much time.

That is both a blessing and a curse.

It is a blessing because I can breathe, take a look around, go places, spend unlimited time with my friends, etc.

It is a curse because I find myself getting less and less productive the longer it lasts. Today, I took a "What is your petronus?" quiz. Seriously, world.

I do love how whacked I am because of my schedule after Spring Break. I wonder how many people out there live like that year-round. If it weren't for help from friends and students, I might not have made it this year. I certainly won't make it out of my tenth year teaching alive at this rate. For about six weeks, all I do is think about what I have to do, but I love the stress, save the few moments when I actually feel overwhelmed. I am programmed to work on deadlines. I like the energy of working something until it is finished, despite the hour of the day. I feed off of it, no matter how gross that makes me sound.

And then, like ...gosh...I have just tried to think about a good simile, and after six tries, I will relent to nothing...

And then, bam...summer.
For the first few days, I don't even know how to handle it. I am a bit confused. Graduation parties and room cleaning aside, I turn my attention to the great expanse of time ahead of me. I start reading. I sleep. I spend too much time on the computer, and this summer, I have taken up the strange habit of watching Law and Order: SVU re-runs. Is that show still on? It is pretty good.

After a few days of that, I start to feel restless. I start planning again...I just can't help it.

Maybe it is a good thing. I leave for camp tomorrow morning, and then I am home for six days before being gone for two weeks. It will be busy and amazing, I am sure. At least I won't have time to take the "what wife of Henry VIII are you?" quiz on Facebook.

Even I have my limits.

1 comment:

risiblepeople said...

you cried during marly & me. therefore, i'm going to assume that it's not my prose that is tear-inducing, but rather, you are a gigantic baby parading as an adult that weeps at nearly anything.