The weather report called for the first winter blast and schools around Connecticut closed. I, however, had my last graduate course to teach and a series of important meetings on campus. Truth be told, I wanted a snow day like the kids - I could have benefited from a day on the couch with my laptop and grading. Yet, as the snowflakes began to fall, I headed into campus to accomplish what I'm paid to do.
Trust me, I didn't want to be there. Even so, I'm glad I was.
There's something about the onset of flakes that creates a flaking attitude within me. It came down hard for a while and I sent out an email to students to watch the roads and make a decision that works best for them. Then, it stopped. Holding class was inevitable and another burst of inner arctic energy needed to be found. 120 minutes needed to be covered.
Yet, my mind was on snowplowing, hot cocoa, and getting under a blanket. It wasn't on agendas, planning, curriculum alignment, and conferencing. Yes, I love these, too, but it's harder to love them at the end of 15 weeks when your mind is on family, open days, and the missed opportunity and realization that SO MANY OTHERS were given permission to chill out at home.
Three more days of frantic schedules and then I can work on ME for a couple of weeks: the gym, good books, reunions, and sleep. I have gone far too many nights in a row with horrible sleep. This isn't good.
And I need to do something about the tooth. It's getting to be a redundant monstrosity in my mouth.
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