I have been remiss. I didn't report last weekend that my week (in a word) was jarring. Getting back to school after summer vacation is always a rude awakening. This year it was particularly shocking. I hadn't been home from the west coast for a week before reality closed in around me and my alarm clock and coffee timer were back on. Really early.
But I'm over it. No more whining. After all, this is my life. It is what I do. I teach. And, as much as I struggle with saying this because it seems to fill all the spaces even when I'd rather it not: I am a teacher. So for the seventeenth time around I will attempt to give this school year and my students my best. I will give it my best, but I hesitate to say I will give it my all--because I need for it not to leave me empty.
I want to be a good teacher; really, I do. But I want also to be a good friend, and daughter, and sister, and aunt. And this year I want also to be someone's sweetheart again. And I want to be a writer. I want to be more adventurous. Creative. Spontaneous. Available. Grounded. Healthy. Happy.
May as well start by being ambitious.