ON SEEING THE LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL AND PREPARING FOR IMPENDING DOOM
Last week had been one of those weeks that I just knew would occur when I wrote this piece. You know the week ... the one long about, oh, three weeks after Christmas ... the one that after the glow of the Christmas lights dulls, is a full-on bucket of suck!
I love that phrase ... bucket of suck. I stole that, er rather, borrowed it, off of something I just read recently, and man! Does it ever aptly describe last week. A gigantic bucket of suck.
When I pulled the door shut on my classroom last Friday, I knew that I wanted the long weekend to entail a lot of ME TIME and not a lot of SCHOOL TIME. I know, I know. That sounds counterproductive, doesn't it?
The problem is that more SCHOOL TIME creates even more SCHOOL TIME, and before it's all said and done, the pile has gotten bigger, not smaller, and I feel even less like I can tackle the world of teaching than I did before I started on the pile to begin with.
Two things occurred in the midst of the bucket of suck last week that caused me to realize that ME TIME was waaaay overdue. The first thing was a chance run-in with a fellow writer, and while I listened, a tad bit jealous, of his tails of writing full-time, I realized, even after he reminded me of this, that the only way my novel (yes, I am writing a novel) will EVER be published is if I take time out of my day, turn off my television, cell, home phone, social media outlets, and just let my writer's mind become immersed in the story. He suggested an hour, one night per week. It seems do-able. Hey! It's going to have to be.
The second thing that occurred was a meeting with another group of writer's, a group (with the minor exception of one individual) that as a collective had never heard or seen my writing. I unveiled four pages, and I was pleased with the response.
Two things. Two little things that have confirmed what I need to be working toward.
There is a light at the end of this twisting, turning tunnel. Rather than wait for the impending doom that I foresee happening, I should be attempting to hitch a ride. That adventure would be so much more fun and certainly more worth it than waiting to be spread across the dark walls of the tunnel, right?
Yesterday, while driving to the post office to post bills, I was hit by an overwhelming sense of GRATITUDE. Now, I know that going off to pay bills doesn't necessarily put a person into a grateful spirit, but as I came down the hill, saw part of my new little town spread before me (why do I still call it NEW?), I couldn't help but think how far I've come in the last seven years, who I have met in the last seven years, the experiences I have been a part of in the last seven years, and how grateful for all of it I truly am.
For now, I am choosing to see the beauty in the simplicity ... I am choosing to hop a ride on that train and not get hit by it. I might even attempt a bath in that bucket of suck!
I love that phrase ... bucket of suck. I stole that, er rather, borrowed it, off of something I just read recently, and man! Does it ever aptly describe last week. A gigantic bucket of suck.
When I pulled the door shut on my classroom last Friday, I knew that I wanted the long weekend to entail a lot of ME TIME and not a lot of SCHOOL TIME. I know, I know. That sounds counterproductive, doesn't it?
The problem is that more SCHOOL TIME creates even more SCHOOL TIME, and before it's all said and done, the pile has gotten bigger, not smaller, and I feel even less like I can tackle the world of teaching than I did before I started on the pile to begin with.
Two things occurred in the midst of the bucket of suck last week that caused me to realize that ME TIME was waaaay overdue. The first thing was a chance run-in with a fellow writer, and while I listened, a tad bit jealous, of his tails of writing full-time, I realized, even after he reminded me of this, that the only way my novel (yes, I am writing a novel) will EVER be published is if I take time out of my day, turn off my television, cell, home phone, social media outlets, and just let my writer's mind become immersed in the story. He suggested an hour, one night per week. It seems do-able. Hey! It's going to have to be.
The second thing that occurred was a meeting with another group of writer's, a group (with the minor exception of one individual) that as a collective had never heard or seen my writing. I unveiled four pages, and I was pleased with the response.
Two things. Two little things that have confirmed what I need to be working toward.
There is a light at the end of this twisting, turning tunnel. Rather than wait for the impending doom that I foresee happening, I should be attempting to hitch a ride. That adventure would be so much more fun and certainly more worth it than waiting to be spread across the dark walls of the tunnel, right?
Yesterday, while driving to the post office to post bills, I was hit by an overwhelming sense of GRATITUDE. Now, I know that going off to pay bills doesn't necessarily put a person into a grateful spirit, but as I came down the hill, saw part of my new little town spread before me (why do I still call it NEW?), I couldn't help but think how far I've come in the last seven years, who I have met in the last seven years, the experiences I have been a part of in the last seven years, and how grateful for all of it I truly am.
For now, I am choosing to see the beauty in the simplicity ... I am choosing to hop a ride on that train and not get hit by it. I might even attempt a bath in that bucket of suck!
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