ENJOYING THE SCENERY VICARIOUSLY

In the midst of fourteen-hour work days and long working weekends, I have discovered something terrible about my schedule: Now that my classroom is at home, I cannot escape it.  I cannot say, "Oh, I will leave that data spreadsheet for tomorrow during my prep period" because first of all, the data notebook is here at my house waiting for me 24/7, and second, prep periods no longer exist.  There is no set curriculum anymore because materials are at school, and we are back to recreating lessons from memory or, in many cases, from scratch.

I keep my remote teaching schedule taped to the window frame above my school-issued laptop so I can periodically look at it and say, "Oh, crap. I have to stop fielding commentary from my C block class because I was supposed to be in D block eight minutes ago."  I have the state power standards for which I am professionally responsible also taped to the window frame, and I spend my entire day (and often into the wee hours of the morning) jumping from my school laptop to my desktop because the school laptop is not connected to my printer since, of course, I must document everything I do remotely by creating a paper trail, which is coldly ironic in this day and age of "paperless" school.

Mostly, though, I am having trouble with lunch.  Yes, that's right: LUNCH.

For the first time in over two decades, my working lunch isn't a mere twenty-two minutes (minus the hall duty and passing time, so more like seventeen minutes); my working lunch if actually a scheduled forty minutes.  It's amazing.  So, once a week I have been trying to take an errand lunch: I run one or two errands and then I go for a quick drive around town with the windows open, regardless of the weather or the temperature.

One day I went to the liquor store and the grocery store to pick up a small amount of items and still made it back with fifteen minutes to spare before my afternoon webinar started.  Another day I went to the post office to mail a package of homemade masks, and then I went exploring a nearby pond for about ten minutes. Sometimes I go for a walk and occasionally skip eating for the benefit of some fresh air.  I mean, I can actually eat at my desk now because no one in my home classroom is allergic to peanut butter.  It's pretty amazing.

If we are Facebook or Instagram pals, you may see posts chronicling my lunchtime excursions.  I try to incorporate water into my theme drives, too, because I am already missing kayaking and walking on the beach, even though those activities wouldn't have started in earnest just yet.  I feel like a caged animal, unable to fully enjoy my surroundings when I'm inside nor when I'm in the semi-outdoors.  It's "semi" because the government is telling us where we can and cannot go (even though we all own the public open spaces).

So, my friends, if you suddenly see posts about being outside, you will know that yes, I am working on my mental health; yes, I probably had something important that needed to be done -- like a sangria run -- and just took the scenic way.  But most of all, you will know that I am playing just a wee bit of hooky from school because I now have an extra eighteen minutes to my lunch, which is really like getting two entire lunch periods for the price of one..

Fear not; I'll make up any of the "running late" minutes that I may miss.  After all, school is in session  each weekday for five hours and I work double that daily, including weekends.    Just watch out for me in case I come home sopping wet one day: It means I cannot take this anymore, and I threw myself into the pond.  That won't happen, though, with the state police throwing us all out of the pond parking lot. So, for now, just vicariously enjoy the scenery, as do I.