Sunday, October 9, 2011


Nearly every Sunday, for the last four years of college, I have come to the Mill to study; literature, rhetoric, women and minority writers, Biblical literature, secondary methods, learning theories and measurement, and more. I have slumped here in a daze inhaling the coffee, the locals, the buzz of conversations, and NPR. Head aches and runny noses, meeting with friends or studying alone. Getting lost on YouTube or taking walks around the block just to get through the day.

I look forward to the day when I come here on a Sunday with a book that I actually want to read. Or maybe I'll sit and write. Maybe I'll people watch. Maybe I'll meet up with a friend. Maybe I'll just sit and mindlessly read blogs. Either way, when that day comes, I will not come toting a textbook, a research paper to be written, or a stack of English essays that need grading. I will just come and be.

Some day.

That day is closer now than ever. Roughly two months from now, I will be finishing up my student teaching and thus finishing my requirements for college. I need that day to come sooner rather than later, because I kinda feel like I'm losing it.

The lifestyle that teaching demands is not one I'm fond of. The job requires working 40-some hours during the day only to continue grading papers and lesson planning into the evenings and weekends. I dislike feeling like I'm regularly letting everyone down: my relationships, my teachers, my Zumba classes, my dreams, my body, my mind, my spirit. It's that one-step behind, constantly playing catch-up thing that absolutely drives me crazy. On Friday when the school doors release us for the weekend, I'm instantly running through everything I have to do before Monday. It never stops. I make lists. I follow them. I live by them. I keep track of all these temporary requirements for "living."

This isn't living.

I realize that there's a good chance I'll have other jobs where I don't absolutely love every minute of it. That's okay. Hopefully, I'll find jobs that keep their word to the 40-hour a week commitment. Hopefully, I'll be in a position where I can walk away from a job that isn't what I thought it would be instead of hanging on to it for the hopes of that damn-ambiguous "college degree."

I look forward to having time.
To read.
To write.
To play.
To sit.
To sleep.
To spend time with people I love.
To grow.
To play/write music.
To dance.
To create.
To be.

But today, I'm at the Mill. Again. Needing to write up student evaluations but blogging instead. Grrrr.

Some day.


Emily Morris said...

I can relate.

Joe said...

Would it help to know that life gets better? I'm not sure I can speak for the teaching lifestyle since I haven't done a lot of it yet. I've heard a few things from other teachers though. Sounds like it's still rough, still a lot of planning and paperwork... but it gets a little better.

Carley Brown said...

Adulthood is highly overrated. So are "real" jobs.

Addison Taylor said...

Heather, I have thought this way too many times. I wonder more and more when I will have the chance to live the way I really want to live--to write, read, sleep, dream, dance, sing--without the stress, pressure, time constraints, sense of guilt-tripping responsibility. I keep praying that day really is attainable.