I bumped into that proverbial wall about three hours ago. It snuck up on me, tapped me on the shoulder, then promptly cold-cocked me right in the face. Every muscle in my body aches. Of course, that could be from the mile-long march in the broiling heat yesterday so that the 53% of my students who actually came to school could participate in field day. The turf area was easily 98 degrees with zero shade, and the walk was downhill the entire way there and uphill the whole way back.
I melted, plain and simple.
It does not help today when a nearby thunderstorm awakens me at 4:00 a.m., robbing me of that last hour of comfy sleep. I get to work and discover that my later-this-week meeting has been moved up to 12:45 today, so I have to do some fancy footwork to prep. Thankfully, I just so happen to be working on that exact project when I arrive at school almost a half-hour ahead of my usual time because, hey, I'm up, so why not, right?
I'm thinking about all of these things, or suspect that I am, when I doze off, only it's not a little nap, it's a big time, mini-dream inducing, head-snapping, where-the-fuck-am-I snooze. Couple this with my complete physical exhaustion and I can almost see it looming ahead of me.
The Wall.
Damn you, Pink Floyd. I may not be one of your bricks, but I think I've been hit by one. If I can drag myself through the next two days, I'm going to sleep for an entire week propped right up against that damn Wall. Then and only then will this teacher "leave them kids alone."
