Tonight I feel stretched thin as elastic. I’ve taken to counting the Wednesdays left in the term. I’m wondering if I’ll make it.
This morning started scattered and early. Rushing in circles trying not forget anything. Dropping the eldest off at jazz practice and heading towards the road construction only to remember that I’d forgotten my Blackberry. The girl-child was sick, I knew I’d need that phone. Backtrack to race into the house and grab the phone and back on the road. Late late late – photocopies to be made, expecting a student for an early meeting. Dealing with tears and dilemmas on the phone while waiting for the photocopies to finish. Making arrangements for one child to stay home. Rushing to class, meeting a fellow instructor for lab materials, finishing feedback for one class while the current class worked on a note-taking exercise. Off to the car to race across town to the other campus, checking in on sick child as I navigate across campus, eating a sandwich on the drive, calling back right before class to make sure she’s okay. Teaching another course, rushing over to the Writing Centre to help with a peer mentoring workshop, back to the car, checking for messages on the way. Stopping for a desperately needed coffee, despite only 15 minutes until class. Teaching on the fly, shifting from sentence workshop into real writing workshop as I bounce from computer to computer, editing, advising, reading, laughing. Work day finally over, one missed call, desperate call home to make sure all is well. Back into car, drive and …
Breathe … such beauty. The lake is an opal, the sky is lavendar, the hills burnt orange. I savour the quiet of the car, melt into a rhythm and let it go.
And then home again and the busy-ness erupts. I finally collapse into my chair, too wasted to mark, and long for a different life. Unable to relax, too keyed up. Then they are all in bed and I sip my tea, trying to find the peace. Then one child is up again and again. Can’t sleep, don’t feel well. I want to scream. Or run away. Or just be left alone for a while.
My head aches and I wish it wasn’t so lonely this life of busy-ness. I can’t help feeling that something important is missing. And I wonder if I’ll ever be content to just be …
