On Fridays I am so tired from being slammed with work and being on my feet all week that I am usually asleep early. Too early. Toddler early.
This week has been great and horrible all at the same time: Great because I am finally starting to feel better after being ungodly sick for three weeks; Horrible because I have tons of correcting as grades are closing plus I am packing up my entire work life for yet another school move. The only time I sit still at work is when I sit down to pee ... if I get a chance to go to the bathroom ... which is located so far from my classroom that taxi service should probably be included in my contract.
By the time Friday afternoon rolls around, the only thing I really want to do is plant my fat ass on the couch.
Tonight I come home and haul my laptop outside to the patio. This is a great plan until I start to nod off around 6:30. I move inside to the couch, which sounds good in theory until I decide to stretch out for just a moment. A quick minute or two. Or three. Or one hundred and eighty.
Yeah. This is the Friday night of my dreams! Yup, for two more Fridays I will be slamming into the wall full force at 100 mph, then I get a few weeks' reprieve as I move into summer mode of rewriting and retooling curriculum. But, at least I'll regain a few Friday nights when I might actually be able to keep my eyes open past 7:30 pm. For several Fridays, I might actually behave like a grown-up.
Until then, though, I hate Fridays. Now, if you don't mind, it's way past my early Friday night bedtime, even though I already napped for hours. (Insert ironic yet woefully pathetic smiley face here.)
