Just the usual

The clock moves faster than I do these days. I look at the clock and think, "Oh good, I have 20 minutes until X," and then I blink and discover that 19 minutes have flown past me without making a sound. It may almost be time for me to take a day for myself so I can break the string of days when I feel like I'm running but not quite able to catch up.

I have a great student teacher who's stronger than any other student teacher our department has had in years. Sometimes I forget that I need to ask her things like, "How's the class doing with the research papers?" or "How do you feel about how your classes are going?" She knows when to offer assistance, like getting down to first period study hall to take attendance while I'm talking with a student in the hallway, and when to step back as I read my email or have conversation with another staff member. My days are easier at school except for one thing: I still have my "class from hell" and most of my energy each day is spent on that class. It doesn't make me happy each morning to realize that's the focus of my day, not teaching my beloved Creative Writing class or conducting classes in which the conversations almost never include frequent cautions about inappropriate language or suggestions to refrain from poking each other with pens. (I keep saying this is the payback for having the luxury of teaching Canadian Studies for the past two years, and I'm annoyed when people laugh at that observation.) Granted, I've lost a few of the original miscreants, and I think this crew has made some progress since the first week of the school year (they're actually quiet for about 90% of the Silent Sustained Reading period), but they're so far behind the rest of the sophomores that I feel like we're in a different universe when I teach them. My sweet husband keeps praising my perseverance with them and he assures me that they'll get a lot more out of the class because there's plenty of structure and reasonable expectations, so I'm willing to hang in there if someone who's taught plenty of similar classes says that I'm doing a good job. Still, it's a challenge to my teacher psyche to face each day knowing I'll have direct contact only with students who are there reluctantly, and who see making others as miserable as they are as their daily goal. This too shall pass....this too shall pass....

My friend Lori and I drove an hour south of here to watch her daughter run in the final cross-country meet of her high school career. The weather held cloudy and not as chilly as predicted which made it perfect for the runners. Lori's daughter cut off a chunk of time, the whole girls' team improved their performances, and our #1 girl placed 18th, making her eligible to compete next week in the Meet of Champions. Our whole boys' team also qualified for next week's meet because they placed 3rd overall. A couple of individual runners weren't happy with their times or relative finishing positions, but they have another week and another race so they can do something about it. Lori, her daughter and I, however, celebrated the end of the season for her by going shopping at the mall. I ended up with a quilted, flannel-lined vest, a scarf and matching gloves, some hoop earrings, a cute pair of school shoes, and some Ug-like boots, a purchase I may regret. They are indeed comfortable, but they are also ugly, as the name implies. I'll wear them only in certain situations, probably when the snow is deep or the lighting dark enough that people can't see them.

I did feel useful yesterday and today as I began to renew the collaboration with a friend on the writing of a book. It's migrated a little from the first described intention of it but it's still based on a set of different perspectives of a significant event in a well-known piece of literature. It's not as in-your-face-different as the John Gardner book Grendel is as it expresses the monster's view of the Beowulf story, but it'll expand the variety of points of view from the original story which is one I've taught on numerous occasions. I offer pearls of wisdom gleaned from my own experience teaching writing and from professional writers who've revealed some of their planning techniques, and he does the writing, following the vision in his mind. I listen to his interpretation of the story and give him feedback, and he accepts and rejects it as he justifies doing it. This is his project, so the decisions are his, but we both enjoy the intellectual give and take as we discuss where the story lines are going and how best to tell them.

Let's see....which day this week will I be feeling poorly enough to stay home?